Cries of the Past
by Distance
Summary: (Updated: Ch. 9 & 10) - Everything is fated before we were born. We are born as planned, we live as planned, we die as planned. This is the story of a man who denied fate and those left in his wake.
1. Chloroform Perfume

Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop or "Chloroform Perfume" by From Autumn to Ashes.

A/N: Ok, this is my first Bebop fic and I'm still not sure what I'm going to do with it. I don't even know if it's going to have any more chapters. I guess that's up to you - if you want more let me know. 

Anyway, if there are more chapters, they won't be quite so introspective and angsty as this. I know a lot of people use the song thing in their fics, and so am I. I figured, if every Bebop episode was named after a song, why not go for it?

And, for setting's sake, this is set about 3 months after session 26.

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Session 1:

Chloroform Perfume

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This is the end result of so many meetings

Late night dinners with no one eating

We sit in corners and sip burnt coffee

Count the tiles upon the ceiling

Skip this pretense and cut straight to dying

Just don't beg me to keep your eyes from crying...

I don't know what the hell we're doing in Ganymede. I thought Jet hated this place. Well, he certainly seems to be over that. It's been his favorite spot to park the Bebop since... Well, since _then_...

I still have a hard time admitting what happened actually happened. So does Jet. Ed doesn't seem too phased by it. I don't think she's old enough to really comprehend what happened. 

I'm not even sure how old she is. Yeah, she came back. A few days after I did. We stopped at Earth to refuel and she just kinda showed up. I don't always understand what she says, but I figured the life of an assistant to a map-maker was too boring for her. The life of a bounty hunter barely holds her attention. Ed, the ADD poster child.

Anyway, back to _that_. I don't think either one of us, Jet or I, are ready to admit what happened actually happened. Neither of us sleep much anymore. I don't know why he doesn't, but I'm too afraid that _he'll_ show up one night and no one will be awake to let him in the hangar. Knowing that bastard, he'd just turn around without a word and go on like nothing happened. Like we were nothing.

We don't eat much either. No money means no food. We're sort of taking a break from the bounties. I guess no one's really up for it. Plus we don't need as much money as we used to. We haven't left Ganymede in a long time - no flying meant no fuel costs. So what little money we do get our hands on goes to feeding Ed and Ein.

Or at least that's what Jet says. He always has this need to rationalize everything. In truth, even if we were sitting in chairs made of Woolongs, I doubt we'd eat. With no one to complain about how bad Jet's food is, he seems to have lost his will to cook.

So we survive on coffee. Coffee and Ed. As much as that kid can get on your nerves, looking at her just kinda gives you this... will to live. Maybe not will. More of a need. I don't think she'd last two seconds without us. So we're here so she can be here. She likes this place.

Me? I'm not sure if I like it or not. I mean, even though I'd never admit it out loud, I like the company. Not just the company, but who the company is. Watching Jet prune is bonzai trees has become a regular part of my day. And who could live without Ed? But this place is full of memories.

A lot of people move when they get divorced, or their partner dies, but we can't. I'm not saying that Spike was my husband or anything like that. All I'm saying is he had become part of my family. Jet - the father figure. Ed and Ein - the pets (because I hope I'd never have a little sister that insane). And Spike - the older brother that you bicker with to keep you refular. No matter how dysfunctional a family is, if a member leaves, it's a sad thing.

It's not like we can pack up and move. When you're too broke to pay for gas, buying a new ship is out of the question. I suppose if we really put our minds to it, Jet and I could rake in enough to retire the Bebop, but our minds are far away from that.

Luckily the dreaded "S' word hasn't crossed either of our minds. We're not that far gone yet. Or maybe we're past it already - who can tell? I don't think either of us are in the shape of talking the other out of it. There are no shoulders to cry on here - we're both having enough trouble keeping our own heads on.

What I want to know is why the hell this is happening? Sometimes I just get so angry. Who the hell does he think he is? It's not right to just waltz into two people's lives, change them, and then just walk right out. It isn't fair!

But I've got no right to complain. Jet should be taking this worse than I am. After all, he knew Spike a lot longer than I did. Jet loved him. He'd never admit to it, but he did. Not any natural kind of love. I guess you could say like a father loves his son, but deeper than that. It was like a father, who also happened to be his sons partner in crime, and his son's drinking buddy, and his son's confidant, and his son's teacher. Yeah, if a father like that ever existed, it would've been Jet.

But I can't help but feel just as hurt and just as lonely. It's not like I was in love with the selfish prick. We were never an item. We weren't even that great of friends. It's just... It's just that Spike can put this goddamned spell on you. You don't know he's doing. _He_ doesn't know he's doing it, but it's happening.

The next thing you know, you're attached to the guy and he's walking out of your life. I can almost imagine how Julia felt all those years ago when whatever happened between her and Spike happened.

This is a lot to be thinking about. I can't really talk about it with Jet. He's still in denial - he keeps coming up with excused for why he feels like shit. I know why I feel like shit and I know why he does, too - but it's not my place to tell him. Maybe I'll take a little trip. One last bounty to put fuel in the Red Tail and then I'll be gone. Jet'll be fine - he's still got Ed and Ein.

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It's 3 am and I'm still far from sleep

But this is a habit that I can't break

And my only company is a skipping stone

I don't know what happened. Maybe it's because I made my peace with Alisa. Whatever it is, I've come to like Ganymede nowadays. It's a nice, peaceful place. Not too many bounties to hunt. Not too many syndicates to deal with. I like it.

We've been out here, just outside the docks nearby Alisa's old bar, for a few months. We came in to turn in our second bounty since... Well, since _then_...

Anyway, we turned him in and just never left. Ed and Ein came back. I have no idea why - Ed seemed so excited about being with her father. Either way, they're back, eating up all the food. Faye's been nice lately. Not so angry all the time. No, maybe she just lost her energy to be angry. 

I'll admit it, I've been feeling a little low lately, too. I mean, a lot's happened recently. A lot I still haven't gotten over. Plus there's nothing to eat. And, as nice and warm as it is here on Ganymede, it's too hot to sleep. 

So here I am. 3 in the god damned morning and I still can't sleep. Damned heat. There's one good thing about living on the water - skipping stones. I was always amused by it, I don't know why though. I learned it as a kid, I perfected it as a cop. With a job like that, there's a lot of things that weigh on your mind. It's best to think them out while watching a stone magically skip across the water.

Skipping stones and smoking cigarettes - besides not sleeping, they're my two favorite pastimes. I don't know why I'm smoking so much recently. I always did, but never this much. I'm not even sure if I'm smoking for the sake of the nicotine. No, I doubt that. It's something to do with the matches. Lighting my death-stick and then watching it flicker in the sea breeze. Something strangely mesmerizing about it. I caught Spike doing it once or twice. Told me it was an old habit of his. I pick up the worst habits from people.

But I'm running out of stones and matches. And I'm running out of money. I'm kinda low on patience, too. Maybe I'll start hunting again. Pick up a few bounties to get us all back on our feet and the Bebop back in the air. I'm sure Faye'll like that - she must be going stir crazy. Ed'll love it - she's been looking up info on bounties just for the fun of it recently. Ein'll love it - he'll get to eat.

Yeah, it's about time we strike out again. We're three people with way too much energy to be sitting around here like this. It's time to go.

__

And the street like flickers like this match in my hand -

Begging to strike.


	2. Rings from Corona

Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop or "Rings from Corona" by Poison the Well.

A/N: I'm too impatient to wait for reviews. I guess I do plan on continuing this after all. Don't really know what's going on here. Just kinda winging it. Bare with me. It's a short, uninspired piece to get me to the next step.

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Session 2:

Rings from Corona

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Open your mouth to see if it's the truth  
Turn around so you can't see me say 'I miss you'  


"What the hell do you mean you're leaving!??"

Faye leaned up against her Red Tail, arms folded defiantly across her chest. Maybe she hadn't thought this out too well, after all. What made her think Jet would just sit back while she left the Bebop?

"Jet, I've got to go." She had to go? Was that true? No, she doubted it. She could've made it just fine here on the Bebop. She wasn't even sure if she _wanted_ to go anymore. Now, it was the principal of the thing. Jet wasn't her father! She could leave anytime she wanted to!

Jet searched for words to talk her out of this. He didn't know why, but he couldn't help but feel the strange need to stop her. "What about Ed!? I can't take care of her and that mutt by myself!"

Faye didn't bother to respond. Nothing she could say would make this right. Nothing he could say would change her mind. What's the use in speaking? She merely boosted herself off her spot against her jet's side and walked around to the pod. With a soft hiss, her Red Tail opened up to let her in.

She could see the anger in Jet's eyes. She could've heard that anger, too, if she was listening. No, she was done listening for now.

"Fine! I won't have to be wasting my money on your ass anymore! And don't bother coming back!"

She powered up her little escape pod. Escape... That's what she needed. Escape from the Bebop... Escape from the memories.

Jet didn't watch as she left. If she was walking out on him, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing him watch her leave. She wouldn't be able to smile coyly because she knew he would miss her. No - he wouldn't let her have the satisfaction. 

And he was glad she didn't say anything more. He knew she was lying. She knew it, too. No use in opening your mouth just to speak what everyone knows is a lie. He gave Ed a soft nudge. "C'mon, Ed."

Ed watched the Red Tail leaving the hangar with a bit of confusion. Where was Faye going? It didn't matter. She'd be back. She always came back. _Just like Ed!_ "Bai, Faye-Faye!!"

__

With everything I've dragged in -  
Venomous beings and all -  
It's nice to think that everything falls into place  
But it doesn't  


I don't know why I came to Callisto. I keep telling myself that it's because it was the closest place to go to that was anywhere near Ganymede. I can't help but doubt that.

What's wrong with me? Why am I so drawn to guys that are such bastards? Drawn to... I'm not even sure what that means. I'm not attracted to either of them... especially not Spike. His ugly, stupid fluffy hair. That idiotic smirk he always wore. The stench of stale smoke, alcohol and blood.

Gren, on the other hand... Gren was beautiful. That's why I'm not attracted to him. He's too beautiful - too beautiful for a woman to be attracted to. And I _don't_ swing _that_ way. But I can't help but remember the short time I spent with him. It was the first time I felt so at ease, speaking so freely. I don't know what came over me.

Sometimes I blame it on the alcohol, but I was talking like that well before he gave me a drink. Maybe I was just so lonely that I'd open up to anyone. Kinda like I am now. But I don't think that's it.

Gren had something in those eyes of his... Something that Spike had too. It's that damned spell I was talking about before. Gren's spell hit so much harder because it wasn't accompanied by repulsion. Spike always laced his charm with hatred. Not Gren. There was something so strangely pure in the way his eyes held you. The holiest of sinners.

None of that matters now. Gren's not here. I was a fool to think that everything would just fall into place like that. Ever since that crazy doctor brought me back to life, nothing's just fallen into place. And nothing's that easy in the life of a bounty hunter. Well, ex-bounty hunter.

Spike mentioned something about sending Gren somewhere after he came back from Callisto last time. Spike, that bastard. He always finds a way to ruin things for me. Takes himself and Gren away from me. Fuck you, Spike.

__

So guilty

So weak

So lost without you


	3. Short of Daybreak

Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop or "Short of Daybreak" by Underoath

A/N: A HUGE thank you to Kyra, SirusPolaris and Minty Fresh Socks, my first three reviewers. You guys gave me a big boost of confidence. This is a new style of writing for me, and a new category to be writing it in. 

So, everyone thank Kyra, Sirus and Minty - they've made me want to jump on this thing and write another chapter tonight. I might even get it done before I head to bed (though I doubt it). Here's another short little section, and I'm still not sure where this is going, so bear with me.

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Session 3:

Short of Daybreak

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Another year has gone by

Time just took it away

Friends have changed

Clear skies watched over us

But we've had our share of rain  


Faye left about a three months ago. Times were hard at first - I have no clue how to take care of some kid and her dog - but life goes on. I found out the secret Faye and Spike had to taking care of Ed - don't. The kid's pretty resourceful. Only thing you need to do for her is cook - and even Faye and Spike couldn't do that for themselves.

All in all, it's been about one year since they started leaving the Bebop - Spike first. Am I sad? Hell no! Am I pissed off? A little. I guess I got too used to having two other people helping me with the bounties. It's hard going solo again. Not emotionally, but physically. It's hard being your own back up. I can't take Ed with me. The kid's too wild to even take out in public. Plus she's the only one on the Bebop feeding me info.

It's days like these that I wish we didn't need the money so damn bad. Lately Ed's been pulling up some stranger bounties than I'm used to. Now that we don't have Big Shot to rely on, we're finding a lot of bounties out there that aren't so publicized - ones not set up by the ISSP. Private groups with cash set up these illegal bounties for people that have wronged them in some way. It's not as clean - rarely do they have any info or photos to give you - but rich pricks will pay a hefty sum to catch someone who's pissed them off.

It's days like these that I wish we didn't need the money so damn bad. Do you think I'd be hunting for a Syndicate if we weren't desperate? That's right, I said a Syndicate. The Red Dragon, no less! Oh well. _He_ had the beef with them, not me. And the money's pretty good.

45 million Woolongs for one guy? That poor bastard must've done something pretty bad to get the Red Dragons to cough up that kind of dough. What he did doesn't matter to me. This isn't the first time we've taken a job from a Syndicate - it's the second. The first time was easy enough, but I learned quickly that you shouldn't ask questions. I was about one question away from having a bounty on _my_ head. So I just listen and hunt.

Yeah, I feel like complete scum for doing this. I mean, I was a cop. I used to get paid for busting people that helped out those Syndicate bastards. But money is money. And as strange as this sounds - I've got a kid to worry about. She may not be my kid, but she's under my care. And she's a hungry kid, too - with an even hungrier dog.

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A smile remains on my face -

Knowing...

Jet walked out of his fourth bar so far that night. With all the bars on Mars, you think he'd be able to get some kind of information on his bounty. Nothing. If he didn't already know how secretive the Syndicates were, he would've guessed that the reason they didn't give him any information on the guy was because they didn't have any.

Thus far, Jet was only running on a nickname the guy goes by - Wrath. Letting frustration take over him, he took off to yet another bar. This one was a personal stop. The easiest way to take your mind off of the stress of bounty hunting was to drink.

Loser Bar - an appropriate place for Jet to head [1]. That's exactly how he was feeling. He had nearly forgotten the memories a place like this would hold.

"Gimme a shot of tequila."

Her long, slender finger was running its way along the brim of Jet's hat before she spoke. He was waiting for his drink when her voice, like the audible equivalent to silk, touched his ears. "I hear you're looking for someone."

There was something in that voice that sent a chill down Jet's spine. There was a certain seductiveness that not even his beloved Alisa's voice could hold. He turned to see a stunning blonde taking a seat next to him. 

Whatever words were on the time of his tongue were lost in the depths of her blues eyes. There was a certain sad sparkle in them. It was the kind of spark that people like he himself possessed. People like him, Spike and Faye - people with pain-filled pasts and an uncertain future. Strong people, unwilling to let the past destroy them, but too stubborn to let go of it.

"Here ya go, buddy."

Jet thanked his lucky stars that the bartender had returned at that moment with his drink. The timely gentleman managed to shake Jet from his trance - avoiding a potentially embarrassing moment. "I hear you shouldn't trust women." _No, I _know_ you shouldn't trust women..._

The beauty simply cracked a smile and ordered her drink. She would be having the same as Jet. The two sat in silence until her drink arrived. When it came, she noticed Jet hadn't touched his yet. She motioned for them to drink together.

The woman downed her drink as easily as Jet had his. The same smile came to her lips again before she spoke. "Women are the only ones who ever know anything about people like Wrath."

Jet's hand, which had previously been en route to bring his mouth another shot of tequila, stopped in its tracks. _Wrath!?_ Though his face wouldn't betray his emotions, he was rather shocked to hear someone speaking so freely about this mystery man. Anyone else he had asked had tensed up upon hearing the name. Some even ran off.

"Do you know a lot of people like Wrath?"

Her formerly genuine smile turned into more of a knowing smirk. She knew exactly where he was going with this. She even pondered helping him. "I only know one. Maybe the same one you're looking for."

Jet knew where this was going. Bounty hunters relied heavily on informants. When you've been a cowboy as long as he had, you got to know all the different kinds of rats there were. This was the kind who were acquaintances with the bounty - not exactly friends and not exactly enemies. They didn't really care whether the bounty got hauled in or not. But they would test you to make sure you were 'worthy' of reeling in someone they knew.

He motioned for the bartender to bring around two more drinks as he put down the required woolongs. He was quickly switching to 'detective' mode. "This one's on me."

The two sat in a content silence once again, waiting for the barkeep to return. Occasionally one would steal a glance at the other to size up their opponent. She could tell this one was dead serious on getting what she knew out of her. Assuming he didn't play a wrong card, she'd tell him, too. It would just be fun to toy with him.

There drinks soon came and went in the same fashion as their predecessors. Jet managed to get his question out before she even placed her glass down. "So, what's the name of the one you know?"

She paused, looking at out of the corner of her eye. "I don't know his real name: no one knows that. But there is a moniker that he goes by."

She was playing with him. She knew every damn thing about the guy - she was just testing Jet to see how much he knew. He did pick up one thing - people only call him Wrath because that seems to be his best trait. He's never called himself Wrath. He probably doesn't even know that's what people refer to him as. "One that he goes by, or one that people call him? There's a difference, ya know."

A soft chuckle escaped her lips. He was good. Even if he didn't know much about Wrath, he already knew more than most who've tried to bring him in. "That's very true. I guess it's just what ignorant people like you and I call him. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would pick Wrath as a name."

Yes, this woman would be the key to Jet and Ed eating well for the next week or so. If she would just cooperate a little longer, he might not even have any repair bills to pay this time around. "He must be a pretty interesting guy with a nickname like that. I'd sure like to meet him someday."

"Why? You some kind of bounty hunter or something?" That all knowing smile never left her lips when she spoke. Jet couldn't help but respect that.

"No. Just an old man who's too curious for his own good." He didn't respect it enough to tell her the truth. When you're looking to squeeze someone's brain a little bit, honesty wasn't a tool widely used.

She looked straight ahead as she smiled. She began blowing on her newest drink - a cup of coffee. She wouldn't fall for the simplest trick in the book - alcohol. "Make sure your curiosity doesn't bring you to any shady looking hotels in this part of town. I hear the kind of people that hang around there don't like old men with no names."

For the first time in a long time, a quiet laugh came out of Jet. That was by far the most interesting way of asking someone's name he had ever heard. "In that case, my name's Jet. I wouldn't want to get jumped by some young vandals just because they didn't know my name."

He sat silently for another few moments, waiting for her to speak. It seemed as if she thought it was time to bring this game to a close. She simply sipped her drink, making no sign that she had any more to say. "You know, just to be safe, you might want to let someone know your name, too. Just in case you wander through that part of town."

The genuine smile she wore when she first spoke came back to her face. "Maybe if you ever manage to find me again, I'll tell you."

Jet threw his hands in front of his face in defeat. After she had been so nice to him, he wouldn't press a simple matter of names if she didn't want to offer the information. He put back on his jacket and headed for the door.

"By the way, Jet." He stopped in his tracks. No matter how smoothly things went, there was always a catch. "What's my cut of the bounty?"

He didn't turn to face her. He knew she would hear him anyway. She was the kind of lady who heard what you said before you said it. "Maybe if you ever manage to find me again, I'll tell you."

__

So I'll hold my head high

For love may be today, I can't say,

But tomorrow awaits

Bringing me closer to you

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[1] - for those that don't remember, Loser Bar was in the place in Session 25 where Jet and Spike got ambushed by the Red Dragons.

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To My Reviewers:

Kyra: Wow. Thanks. Those were two of the nicest reviews I've gotten since I've been here at FF.Net. And since FF.Net is the only place I've ever submitted anything, that means those were two of the nicest reviews EVER. And, in the words of CCR: "I put a spell on you... because you're mine..."

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SirusPolaris: Thanks. I do indeed plan on continuing this, and I hope this is soon enough for ya.

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Minty Fresh Socks: Thanks. The Gren/Spike thing was kind of an accident, but I'm glad you liked it. About the songs - I figure it's because the show itself was so heavily influenced by musicm. That why I'm doing it. But I think I might stop it - the longest part of writing this chapter was finding a good song to go with it. (in fact, if you knew the whole song, you'd see that the song doesn't fit at all, but I just pulled out the quotes that do).


	4. 1000 Yard Stare

Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop or "1000 Yard Stare" by doubleDrive

A/N: Thanks once again for the reviews. You guys rule. This will be a fairly awkward chapter. I've already started work on the next few, but I'm still having trouble with this one. Anyway, I'll shut up now and get on with it. Oh, and tonight will be a double upload (to make up for this lacking chapter).

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Session 4:

1000 Yard Stare

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There ain't nobody who's gonna wait so long...

I wish they'd know...

I guess I got what I deserved. I mean, I did bail out on him. The least Jet could've done was give me a chance to come back, though. I leave for a few days to look for an old friend and I come back to an empty spot in the water where the Bebop used to be. One of the locals told me they left Ganymede all together. Figures.

There really needs to be something like Callisto, only with all women. Men are so unreliable. They never think of anyone besides themselves. They're such bastards. I hate them.

I mean, they come and thaw you out. They bring you into this brand new world. They teach you how to live your life again. They take you out on the town and win your heart. What's next? Marriage? Happiness? No. Next, they fake their own death and leave you with all of their debts.

Or they come along and act like a friend. When everyone is disrespecting you, they're there to listen. To tell them everything you're feeling, and they know just what to say in response. Even when you pull a gun on them in the shower, they don't seem to mind too much. That is, until they leave you hand cuffed on a bed while they go off to some other planet.

Or they treat you like complete trash. They mock you. They have a rude comment for everything you say. They smoke and drink constantly. You save their lives and don't even get a thank you in return. And somehow they touch you in a way no one else has. Just when you're warming up to them, and you think their warming up to you, that's when it ends. They leave you there firing your gun as they walk into a death trap for the sake of facing their pasts.

Or they take you in when no one else would. They give you a place to stay. They let you work with them. They cook and serve your meals (no matter how bad they taste). They repair your ship. They make themselves the father that you wish you had when you were a kid. Then, as soon as you turn your back, they take off.

I hate them all. Why the hell do I have to miss them all so much?

__

I don't care...

I've got to lose myself to get somewhere...

Mars is a crowded place. It's an easy place for someone like Faye Valentine to get lost in, which was exactly what she wanted. Too much was going on in her head right now. There were only a few people in this universe that she could be eased by, and none of them were there for her. Might as well be alone.

A simple way to take her mind off of thing was watching. Watching anything. On the Bebop, stressful nights were made livable by watching that tape. That strange tape of a little girl that had the same name as she. Faye sometimes doubted it was her - she could never remember being _that_ young.

But there was no tape with her now to help ease her mind. She would have to settle for watching people. The market areas of Mars were always good for such a task. Even as the evening began to descend on the street, it was still filled with people. All different kinds of pawns in Faye's mental game. Short. Tall. Fat. Skinny. Old. Young. Lanky. Stocky. Muscular. Ugly. Beautiful. Gren.

Faye's can of Pippu [1] clattered as it fell to the sidewalk below her feet. _Gren!?_ She couldn't believe her eyes. She shook the cobwebs out of her head. She had to be seeing things. She looked again. He wasn't there.

No, Gren was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes must've been playing tricks on her. Maybe she had more on her mind than she thought. It was a shame. The man always had that strange sense of timing - it wouldn't have been that odd for him to pop up at that moment. But alas, he wasn't there.

With a sigh of defeat, Faye turned to head back to her Red Tail. With no woolongs, her trusty jet had become her temporary home. As she walked with her head bend solemnly to the ground, she hit something hard. She braced herself for impact as she fell backwards towards the ground. 

The pain never came. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw that face again - Gren's. It was only inches from her own. His features still held the remnants of worry, but he soon smiled happily.

Faye simply stared. This time she wouldn't shake the image from her head. No, this was no image. She could feel his arms keeping her from falling. She was close enough to feel his secret. He had a strange sense of timing, indeed.

And when he spoke, the image was finally shaken from her head and replaced by all the memories and reasons why she had been so drawn to him in the first place. He had such an alluring voice. "You know, maybe I was wrong about you. I thought you stood out so much on Callisto because you were a woman. But word of you travels fast even on Mars."

__

Lure me far from home....

Light years...

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[1] - Pippu? That's what it said on all the soda cans in the show, right?

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To My Reviewers:

Kyra: You are WAY too nice to me. It's gonna start going to my head if you don't watch out. And who could forget Loser Bar?? Not me. I think it might make a comeback, just cuz I like the name. You're right, Jet doesn't get enough play around here. I know a lot of people don't like him that much, but I'm giving him a good part in this later on.

Minty Fresh Socks: Yeah, I think the songs add a lot, too. That's why I'm trying so hard to make them fit. You might've noticed I had a bit of trouble with this chapter (only used like three lines). And about Jet, I saw an interview with Bebop's creator (Wantanbe?) and he said Jet was supposed to be like the father. I didn't really get that from the show, so I wanted to pull it out more here.

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Aries: I have a confession to make - the title isn't from my imagination. It's a song (like all the "session" names). But I'm still glad it drew you in! See you Space Cowgirl (I couldn't help myself, either).


	5. Silencer Part One

Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop or "Silencer" by MeWithoutYou

A/N: I must admit, I'm actually excited to write this chapter. This my first Gren chapter. He really didn't get enough play in the Series. And don't worry, I will explain why he's alive. And this will be heavily song influenced (between this and it's continuation, I'll use every line in the song) - to make it kinda stand out, cuz I think it's safe to say everyone loves Gren. It'll probably be a pretty long chapter, too.

To anyone who hasn't seen the movie: Do it. There's a big part of this chapter that won't make any sense unless you've seen it. AND, for everyone who has seen the movie, and just isn't in "the know" - the events of the movie are supposed to take place around Session 11, just before the Bebop crew's run in with Gren.

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Session 5:

Silencer (Part 1)

__

Don't waste your lips on words I've heard before 

Kiss my tired head. 

And each letter written wastes your hand...

You gave me hope that I'd not lost her 

And then thought it rather strange to see me smile- 

As I don't do too much smiling these days...

Gren's apartment held a certain mystery to it, much like his place on Callisto. Pictures were everywhere. None were new. It was not a happy sight of someone holding on to beautiful memories of their childhood. It was not the kind of pictures someone with a bright future ahead would have. Nearly all were faded. Quite a few were torn. Some bore a few water stains - tell tale signs of tears. It was not a happy sight. It was like a wallpaper of past sorrows. Past sorrows that refuse to remain in the past.

Faye couldn't help but feel a bit of deja vu. A glass was placed before her. It was not quite as elegant as the one she held with him in Callisto. It was much smaller and gave off the air that it had seen as many troubles as its owner. 

Soon it was filled with vodka. She honestly couldn't remember what he had served her that night. Her mind was too clouded with the sickness that being so underdressed on Callisto had brought her.. But his memory was intact. In fact, if he remember right, it was even the same bottle that they left unfinished that night.

Neither opened their mouths for a long time. It wouldn't be right to waste their words on friendly formalities - they went through that last time. Gren wasn't the type of man to waste words.

He couldn't help but admire her beauty. It brought a smile to his face. It was a strange feeling to smile again, but it felt fitting in her presence. She was so mysterious and seductive. She had a certain mischievous glimmer in her eye. She always did. Julia did, too.

"You know, you remind me a lot of her. I can see why Spike went to Callisto to find you."

A sad smile crept across Faye's face at the mention of Spike. If only Gren knew what emotions he was churning up in her. "He didn't come looking for me."

A soft, friendly laugh escaped Gren's lips. "Is that what he said? With men like him, I wouldn't believe it."

Faye took another solemn sip of her drink. Her eyebrow merely raised in an automatic response.

"Julia told me once... His eyes were two different colors. One eye sees what's in front of him, and the other continually looks at the past. Something like that can distort your vision."

Faye fought the blush that threatened her face. Was he suggesting what she thought he was? About _Spike_? "Well, that doesn't mean much anymore. He's gone, Gren."

The tall man, leaning on a wall covered in pictures, made no sign of surprise. The news obviously didn't get to him. After pulling a gun on him, while he kept a perfectly calm face, Faye doubted anything got to him. "I wouldn't believe that, either."

She didn't want to get angry. She didn't know why talking about Spike made her angry. But it happened anyway. "No, Gren! He's gone! For good! He's d --"

"Dead?" A smirk came to Gren's face. He still hadn't moved from his spot. He still wasn't surprised. It was like a movie that he'd seen a few too many times. Life held no surprises for him. "I know. I'm just saying you might be confusing fact with rumor."

Faye sat back in defeat. She let the soft comfort of the couch engulf her. She had been looking for Gren, but she never expected their meeting to take this kind of turn. He was just as much trouble to her as she was to herself.

Gren watched a certain sadness take over Faye. He couldn't bare it. What he had told her on Callisto was true - he wasn't interested in women. He wasn't interested in men, either. People like him weren't interested in much. But she was different. Who in there right mind wouldn't be interested in her? Just like Julia. In fact, if the stories he heard were true, the two had met. Even Julia could resist the strange allure Faye had.

"I'm supposed to be dead, too, Faye."

__

Come kiss my face goodbye - 

That space below my eye and above my cheek 

Cause I'm faint and fading fast 

I see a darkness and I shall be released. 

I'll pass like a fever from this body 

And softly slip into his hands...

Soft eyelids fluttered open. Soon, they closed again violently. The light was too much for Gren to bear. The encounter only managed to add intensity to the throbbing in the back of his head. _Where am I?_

A hearty laugh made him open his eyes again in curiosity. He squinted, trying to identify the form standing above him. It was useless. "You have a lot more to worry about than the light hurting your eyes."

There was a certain harshness in that voice. It was the type of voice that could not be masked. No matter how pleasant it's owner tried to make it seem, that voice still held a deep hatred in it. But this person didn't bother to hide his intention. He hated everyone and everything, and he wanted all who heard him to know it. Only someone who had been greatly wronged in the past would feel like this. Only someone as sick as a madman would take pride in feeling like this. "Vincent?"

***

I was ready to die. I wanted to die. I had lived longer that I should have already. Vicious had made certain that I met my end. I thank him for it.

But Vincent? I still don't understand why he's trying to save me. I still don't understand why he isn't dead yet. He survived Titan with me and Vicious. He underwent the same kind of procedures as me and Vicious. They say that what they did to us was some sort of cure or something, but I never believed it. We've been lied to before, why would they tell us the truth about that?

I can feel it killing me. Those little machines the put in my blood. I felt them start to kill me the day I was sent to prison. Prison... Vincent was sent there, too. Vicious told the ISSP that he was working with me. Said that Vincent covered up all of my trails and threatened anyone who found out. He was out smarted by Vicious, too.

That's why I never questioned why Vicious was still alive. He wasn't a normal human. Watching him on the battle field made me doubt his mortality. That's why Vicious is alive, but Vincent? Vincent was just a normal human. Just like me.

Vincent talks to me while I rest. I asked him why, and he told me human contact helps the healing process. Bullshit. He's just got a lot on his mind and he's making me listen. I'd listen anyway - it's not like there's much else to do here on Titan.

He told me once about a man he met. His name was Spike. He told me about how amazing the kid was. One of the best fighters he's met in a long time. Smart, too. I had trouble stopping myself from saying "yeah, I know."

He tells me that he came here to die, too. He tried to just a few days before I came here. After being stopped by Spike, he figured killing himself would be just as good as killing everyone else.

I guess I'm the one that ruined that plan. Me, Vincent and Vicious were real close back on Titan. Maybe that's why we all volunteered for the same procedure. Anyway, me and Vincent grew a lot closer after we both got screwed by Vicious. In fact, he's the one who planned the jail-break with me. I would've stopped to save him, too.

***

"Vincent, what the hell are you doing!?"

Vincent raised the gun and pointed it straight at Gren's head. "I've tried a lot of things to help you. None of them have worked. Desperate times call for desperate measures!"

Gren made no move to dodge the attack that would soon be coming. He had wanted to die originally, after all. Thinking about it made it seem foolish that he should change his mind just because he ran into Vincent.

Seeing no further objections were to be made, Vincent pulled the trigger. The tiny ball hit Gren's chest hard and exploded on contact. It's tiny passengers soon took to the air, unseen by any human eye.

Gren examined himself. There was no blood. There was no bullet hole. There was pain, but he had felt worse before. He didn't understand. What did Vincent just do?

Soon, it all became clear as a hacking fit ensued. He had seen other people do what he was doing countless times. He knew just what was happening. "The ... lymph... o... cytes?"

Vincent's lips curled up slightly. He was pleased that Gren finally understood. "Yes, the lymphocytes. Your body isn't healing because of all the contamination on Titan. You'll just get worse. The nanomachines in you will react soon. They'll give your immune system a boost."

The nanomachines? That couldn't be. Gren was sure that they were what was killing him in the first place. Vincent was wrong and had just made a terrible mistake. But, as if reading Gren's mind, he spoke. "You still don't get it. Those things in you aren't killing you. Betrayal is."

Vincent turned and headed for his ship. He would leave without explaining his words to Gren. He didn't need an explanation, though. Gren knew just what he meant.

__

She put on happiness like a loose dress 

Over pain I'll never know 

"So the peace you had," she says, 

"I must confess, I'm glad to see it go."

... 

I've made you so happy and so sad, 

But which should I be more sorry for? 

The story had interested Faye greatly, but she still looked at him as nonchalant as ever. Just like he had done to her. "So, you came back to get revenge on Vicious?"

Gren paused. His hand hung in limbo before he finally brought himself to bring the glass the rest of the way up to his lips. As he sipped, he couldn't help but laugh within his own mind. "Something like that..."

"I wouldn't recommend it. That idea's what got Spike in so much trouble."

Both remained in a much needed silence. The story took a bit of energy out of Gren. It pained him to think of what happened to Vincent. That man was more of a danger to himself then he could ever be to anyone else. It also was a hard story to tell because he had to admit to himself that only a year ago he was ready to die.

Faye's silence was a much sadder one. This conversation had brought up many bad realizations. Spike was gone. No matter what Gren said, she was still convinced. And to top it off, she had almost lost Gren, too, without even noticing it.

They both sipped on their vodka, content with their silence. Each casually glanced at the other. Nothing needed to be said. The first time they met, they both had spoken so freely, it seemed almost fitting that silence hung over them now.

Faye thought it somewhat sad that she break that silence, but she spoke nonetheless. She couldn't help but notice something was different about Gren. She also couldn't help but comment on it. "You don't seem quite as peaceful as you did when we first met."

She waited for him to reply, but he never did. It didn't matter much to her. She didn't expect him to. "I must confess, it makes me somewhat glad. It's nice to know I'm not the only one around here without peace."

A laugh forced it's way out of Gren. Peace? Peace was never something he understood. Since the war on Titan ended - since this so called 'peace' was achieved - he's felt more troubled than he ever did before. Peace of mind and peace of body are two different notions, he mused.

She couldn't stop herself from smiling when she heard him laugh. She didn't care why he did, she just let it ease her mind. She looked up at him as she remembered why she had been looking for him in the first place. Those troubled, yet beautiful eyes. Just as captivating as Spike's, but in a different way. It was something she couldn't figure out - something she didn't _want_ to figure out. Knowledge meant a loss of mystery. That would take the fun out of the whole thing.

"You know, I'm happy you found me."

Gren hid his surprise well, but the comment still spawned him into action. For the first time that night, he sat down. His apartment was similar to the one in Callisto. Two couches were still situated opposite each other. He sat across from Faye, refilling both of their drinks. "But what I've sad has made you sad."

No denial came. Faye and he both knew it was the truth. But sometimes the logical truth didn't matter. Lots of logical things didn't matter to Faye when she was around Gren. She stood and crossed the gap between herself and her host. She had a certain seduction in her eyes as she sat next to him.

She finished her glass much more quickly than the others before it. She didn't know whether it was the alcohol or not, but Faye couldn't stop herself from getting lost in those pale blue eyes. With a coy smile, she placed her glass on the table in font of them. In perfect silence, she asked for one more drink.

He gladly obliged. He was getting the opportunity with Faye that he never allowed himself to have with Julia. Now he could only remember and regret. He had heard of Julia's fall. He couldn't help but wonder if he could've changed her fate if only he embraced her company.

But life had too many 'what ifs'. He deemed the subject dead as he reached over to pour Faye one last drink. He watched as the final drops of the bottle fell into her glass. The final drops of the bottle they had started together so long ago.

__

"Young man come and lead me to your bed..."


	6. Silencer Part Two

Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop or "Silencer" by mewithoutYou

A/N: Big apology to everyone. I know this shouldn't have taken as long as it has to write this, but the new job is full-time. Fear not, I WILL keep updating. I'm forcing myself to. This chapter's not quite as organized at the rest. I'm just typing as it comes to me. Some of the lyrics might repeat from last time - it's only like a 3-4 minute song.

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Session 6:

Silencer (Part Two)

__

"Young man come and lead me to your bed..."

As she moved closer to me, I didn't know what to do. I still don't know what I _should've_ done, but I'm fairly sure pulling he closer to me wasn't it. I don't know why I did it. I didn't even know I was doing it until it was done.

And she seemed to like it. That was the last thing I wanted...

__

I tried to love you and I failed

But I have another plan...

"Gren..." Her voice was low, almost like a moan of pleasure. Faye didn't know why, but for some reason just the small tug he gave her felt like a full body massage. It felt so good, but for different reasons. Human contact had been rather elusive for quite some time with Faye, and contact from a human like him was more than she could handle. But that wasn't why she relished it. It was so filled with caring, and she needed someone to care for her.

He didn't know what he was doing. Only seconds before hand, _he _had pulled her closer to him. Why did her want her off of him so badly now? Gren knew the answer, and felt a bit of shame in it. He couldn't love her - just like he couldn't love Julia. He just didn't feel fit to give his love to someone like her. They both were special, and he was ordinary. But with Faye, the feeling was much worse. Julia was something dear, but she was also a murderer. She had worked for the greatest crime syndicate to exist. Faye wasn't tarnished. She was... his fairy.

As her lips closed in, Gren tensed, but did not pull away. He didn't need to - she could feel every word he wouldn't say. She leaned back, defeated. What had she expected? _He's already told me he's not interested in women..._

Gren was a confusing man. Faye couldn't figure him out. First, he pulled her in so gently, with comfort embedded in the embrace. Then, he gives her the most unemotional kiss she's ever felt. And now, he refuses to move that damn arm of his - enticing her into coming back.

When she looked in his eyes, she suddenly understood. She didn't see the lover that he could be - she saw the friend that he was. So she came back. Curling slightly up to him, she let the warmth wrap her. He slowly slide his arms around her shoulders. 

Blinking her own tears away, Faye wondered if the man was capable of crying. When she had looked in those eyes of his - those hypnotic eyes - she saw a pain she couldn't fathom. And still, he didn't cry. His eyes were perfectly dry.

__

We're two white roses lying frozen

Just outside his door

Makes you so happy and so sad

Which should I be more sorry for?

It was a strange coincidence that Gren happened to look down just as Faye looked up. They both found themselves locked in place. They both found something so similar in each other's eyes. Both held a familiar desire - one not strong enough to over come the obstacles between them.

"Looks like Vicious ruined both of our lives." Gren was taken aback. He certainly didn't expect that man to come up in conversation. But he knew exactly what she was talking about. He had taken Spike from her. Spike being gone had ruined her life.

"Isn't it depressing that it makes me smile? Knowing that someone else feels like this."

She had smiled? Gren hadn't noticed. He barely heard her speak. He didn't know why the realization didn't some to him earlier. She loved Spike

__

How long, my lord?

How long must we sing this song?

My lord, how much more of this pretending to be strong?

When she stands before your throne...

Spike must be something great. Julia and Faye both fell for him. Faye and Julia, both out of my reach, had fallen for him. Damn you, Spike.

Maybe I had the right idea on my way to Titan. Soldiers don't cry - not even as they feel the last shred of hope leaving them. I heard Vicious telling that to Vincent once when the pain became too much for him. But what about when a soldier's had enough? What if they feel the last shred of hope leaving them _again_? Maybe in death, there is no need for tears.

What about now? Is it still wrong to cry while I'm sitting here with my fairy in my lap? She's fighting tears for another man, and I'm here pretending to be strong.

__

Dressed in beauty not her own

All soft and small, you'll here her call...

Even when she spoke, their gaze didn't break. Their eyes remained, unblinking, locked on each other. But Gren's gaze changed drastically. Faye didn't know what was wrong until she could feel it. A lone tear trickled down her cheek. 

Suddenly embarrassed, she looked down, quickly wiping the streak of salt water away. That exactly was it was - salt water. Salt water poured into her open wound. With everything on her mind, the last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of him.

This meeting had not gone as planned. Maybe if Faye would've found him while she was still looking, it would've gone better. Perhaps if he hadn't snuck up on her, not giving her a chance to prepare. Perhaps this was a lost cause...

Gren sat in turmoil. He wanted to hear her speak. He wanted to watch two beautiful lips form words along the likes of "I'm ok." But what words he did get, he didn't expect - he didn't want.

__

"You brought me here, now take me home."

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To My Reviewers:

Kyra: I kinda cheated on the whole two new parts thing - I put them both up at the same time. As far as being an idiot goes - *I* care! But it's ok, I care in a good way. Idiots are the spice of life. And, once again, you're too nice - by saying that you aren't too nice makes you even nicer.

Minty Fresh Socks: As for that lyric you talked about: yes, there is fun to come. Unfortunately, as I'm sure you've realized, it didn't come in this chapter. Sorry. But don't worry - it's still coming. This is the storm before the calm.

Andy: Thanks. Of course I plan on continuing! This short little chapter is far from being considered a large addition, but the next one coming should be more eventful (and longer, too).


	7. Cowboy's Song

Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop or "Ry Ry's Song" by Glassjaw.

A/N: Enough emotion for now. Time to get back to the plot. 

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Session 7:

Cowboy's Song

__

He would stay forever just to say he saw you leave, 

And maybe things wouldn't be this way. 

Yeah, the lady seemed shady. Doesn't matter though. It's been too long since I've had a bounty this intriguing. And I don't think I _ever_ had a bounty that paid this much. So, shady lady or not, I went. A nice little run-down hotel in the nasty section of Mars - the Syndicate section. No. A Syndicate snob would never be caught dead in a place like this. This was the area just outside of the Syndicate's home - a place too dangerous for any respectable business to open up.

I had a feeling I might find this guy in this part of town. That bar I picked, which name I won't mention for irony's sake, is only around the corner. It's taken me a few hours to get here - I had to hit another bar before I came. A coffee bar. With some of the fear just this guy's nickname brought up, I had the feeling I better be pretty damn sober before I go after him.

She's here, too. That blonde bombshell from the bar. That's another reason I waited. I had a hunch she'd come over afterwards to see how successful I was. It'd be a hell of a lot easier to just follow her straight into his room than it would be finding it on my own way. She hasn't seen me yet. At least I don't think she has.

__

There's a man who's sitting in a hotel rooming 

Waiting for a hooker that he never applied for

Is it even her?

__

A long, slender finger, bearing bright red nails, buzzed in. The static from the old speaker only intensified the tire in the voice - a voice that came from someone who didn't sounded pleased with her disturbance. "_What do you want?_"

The deadpan voice did nothing to dampen hers. She spoke happily, not phased by the less than warm welcome. "I'm just someone looking to give you a good time. A man named Shin said you needed it."

A long silence followed. Jet could see the women become steadily nervous. She reached up to ring in her disturbance once again before the man let out a ring of his own. The loud, annoying buzzing let the women know she was free to open the door.

Jet watched as the long blonde hair trailed after its owner. She walked with an abundant amount of confidence - leaving the door to swing open a bit too far in her confident wake. She was already around a corner by the time Jet snuck a foot in the closing door. He loved confident women sometimes.

He retrieved his hanging hand-held communicator from the awning. Ed constantly spying on him through that thing proved useful at time. "Ed! What room did she call?"

Ed's young, jovial face materialized on the screen, goggles pushed up over her forehead - leaving her hair in a mess hovering above her face. She pushed Ein's muzzle out of the screen as she leaned her face in closer for a full screen view. "More, floor, four!"

Without a blink of an eye, Jet entered the room with a bit of speed, heading for the stairs. "What about the room number?"

"Teen...team.... three!"

Over the past few months, Jet had come to realize that deciphering Ed's ramblings weren't all that hard. The lady had called up to room 413. If that was the voice of an angry bounty, Jet was only 4 floors away from real beef.

__

And he can't believe a damn thing you'll say.

"We're going no where."

and "Fair is fair."

A soft rap at his room's door brought 'Wrath' to his feet. "Why does everyone think I need to get laid?" he mumbled as he turned the knob. The face on the other side brought him to a dead stop. Could it be?

He didn't bother to introduce himself. He cut straight to the questions. "Who are you? What's your name?"

The nameless bombshell paid the man no head. She slipped through the small space between him and the door frame, their body's brushing the whole way through. After making her entrance, she sauntered her way to a worn out, comfortable looking armchair. She sat, turning herself to face him while crossing her legs, her dress falling a bit, allowing a bit of leg to peak through the slit in the business-like covering. She certainly didn't look like a prostitute. 

"Tonight, I'm whoever you want me to be, baby." She sounded like one, though.

Jet watched as the woman squeezed her way into the door. He caught a glimpse of the man on the other side. He didn't see much - only a tuft of brown hair and the lens of some goofy looking sunglasses. He certainly didn't look like a killer to him.

__

But then again, neither do I. As he reached down to pick up his communicator, he paused to look at his fake arm and leg. No, he looked more like a geriatric than a killer. "Ed, no more watching. I'm turning you off."

The small screen went blank before the child had a chance to respond. If this guy really was as dangerous as everyone seemed to think he was, the last thing Jet needed was a random outburst from Ed, yapping about something Ein just ate, to blow his cover.

He gave the knob a soft turn. It didn't budge. The man must've locked the door after the girl entered. It didn't matter much to Jet as he pulled out a thin pick from one of his pockets. With the look in that blonde's eyes, Jet was fairly sure they were already to the bedroom and out of ear shot of anything going on near the door.

__

There's a woman sitting in a motel room, 

Counting minutes, seconds, 

Adding to her list of "one hour loves." 

As she watched him close the door, the blonde couldn't help but find him attractive. His messy, and quite fluffy brown hair gave him a certain friendly quality. His tall, lanky stature gave him a very harmless look. But she knew better. She might not have held much stock in the rumors on the street, but she trusted every word her boss told her - especially when he talked with such passion. He always talked about Wrath with an extra bit of emotion. From emotionless to almost emotionless is a pretty big change for a guy like him.

He pulled up a wooden, less inviting chair to sit across from her. With his hands folded in his lap and sunglasses blocking his eyes from the rest of the world - no matter how dimly lit his room was - he looked all business. Another thing she found appealing.

"Who do you work for?" His voice was deadpan. She got the impression she wasn't welcome.

"I work for myself. Most respectable women do. But Shin's the one who sent me, if that's what you're asking." She kept her seductive smile on at all times. She wouldn't let him get to her.

"What does a Syndicate member want with me?"

"Don't you know? He hasn't worked for the Syndicate for almost a year."

She was smart. He still didn't buy that Shin had sent her, but he didn't exactly buy that she was a hooker, either. Women that deal in the physical businesses like hers generally don't think too well on their feet. He smiled in respect. She had done her homework. "If you're not gonna tell me who you work for, at least tell me why you were sent here."

This was her opportunity. She leaned forward, consciously giving Wrath a good view down her blouse, while at the same time hiking up her dress a few inches more. "You don't look like a stupid man. Why else would I be here?"

As she licked her lips, he brandished his gun. With her leaning forward like that, his outstretched arm held the tip of the barrel only an inch or so from her forehead. "Cut the crap."

Staring down that long tube that held a bullet for her troubles immediately killed the blonde's resolve. After all, none of what she was hinting at was necessary - she just wanted it for fun. "I - message. I was sent here with a message." She could barely choke out the words. 

Wrath was quickly getting annoyed. Maybe she wasn't as smart as he had thought. "And the message is... ?"

With a sudden shake of her head, the woman seemed to be snapped back into reality. A reality still filled with tremendous fear, but reality nonetheless. "Oh. It's from - "

"Shut up."

The man didn't raise is voice. If anything, he was quieter than before. But his voice commanded a respect that forced the woman into a confused silence. _I thought he wanted me to 'cut the crap'?..._

He turned, ears trained on the faint noise he was hearing. The was a soft scraping, accompanied by the occasional rattle of a door knob. Suddenly, she understood completely.

"The man who followed you here - is he a bounty hunter?"

She turned her gaze from the door back to Wrath. With his gun now lowered, she spoke again with ease. "Yes." For some reason, she wasn't too surprised that this man knew Jet had followed her. 

__

Just when it's perfect, 

It's finite, 

He called it.

__

Piece of cake. Just open the door - sneak in through the corridor - pop in on that woman doing her job. Wulongs, here I come.

Jet smiled to himself as the lock popped open. That was easier than he thought. In fact, with the perfect image of how this would turn out already in his head, picking the lock was the hardest part.

With a smile, he opened the door slowly and quietly. Stepping into the room proved his mental image horribly wrong.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Jet caught a sight of the steel barrel pointed at him. So much for stealth. "I'm the guy who'll be getting rich off the bounty of your head."

Jet spoke his words like they were fact, not opinion. It seemed there was no room for questions, but that didn't stop Wrath from asking. And he asked with a laugh, too. Jet already didn't like this guy. "Really? And how do you suppose you're going to do that?"

All Jet did was smile. He smiled to himself, as reassurance that he in fact would reel this fish in. Then, he smiled at the girl, tell her to get down. In one swift motion, Jet drew his weapon, shot out the only light in the room, and dove to the floor. As he rolled behind the chair the woman had been sitting on - the closest thing to 'cover' he could find - Jet sent a flurry of bullets in the direction of Wrath.

Wrath's pain sensors were sent into immediate action. From what he could tell, he caught three bullets. No matter. He'd taken a lot more than that at once. He had been living in his hotel room for half a year now - he knew the layout perfectly. There was no place to hide.

Jet breathed heavily, changing clips behind the weak covering the chair provided. He may not have taken a bullet, but his body certainly took a good beating from his graceless trip across the floor. _I'm getting too old for this shit..._

Jet's musings on the affects of age in a career such as his were cut short. A swift kick from Wrath sent Jet's own covering tumbling over him. He was left there, naked and uncovered as the day he was born, on the day that he might possibly die. From what Jet had heard, he wasn't the first bounty hunter to go after Wrath, but he hoped he would be the first to live through it. The feel of cold metal on the back of his neck hinted at his hopes not coming true.

"Hold it!"

A/N: I figured I'd cut this off here. Since it's taking me so damned long to update this, finishing it would probably delay me another week, at least. Plus, no easier way to build suspense than to cut off in the middle of an idea. And don't expect to see the return of this song - it doesn't fit at all, but it's all I could come up with.

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To My Reviewers:

Kyra: Much apologies for any havoc "Cries..." has caused you. And, in your defense, I send an even weirder look in your brother's general direction. Punk. Just kidding. Unless, of course, he actually is a punk. In that case, I am as serious as a guy named Sam. And, once again, thank you for the kind words. And ramble on, my friend. Makes reading reviews even more interesting than it already is. And it gives me more stuff to write in these little bits, which is always fun.

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Minty Fresh Socks: Thank you. Glad you liked it. Yeah, Gren is cool indeed. He really should've been in the show more. And if you think action is fun, wait til the next chapter. I won't say what's in it, but it'll be bloody, to say the least. And, about not posting enough - I'm sure I've fallen behind both your Fav authors and yourself. In fact, it's taken me so long, that I've had to go back and add this little bit to the comments for you, seeing how I wrote them at least 2 weeks ago. I hate ISPs.

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Rashaka: Ooooo, a new reviewer! I'm glad I have you intrigued. I just hope I haven't lost you in the time it's taken me to upload this.


	8. The Sound of a Silent Gunshot

A/N: Let's try and finish this little bit up now, shall we? And, since I'm not thinking of any songs, none shall go here. I really should just get someone to read my chapters and pick songs for me. Doing both takes way too much time.

Oh, and on a side note, this is my big surprise chapter. But you have to read through the whole thing to find out what it is.

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Session 8:

The Sounds of a Silent Gunshot

It was quite a predicament the three found themselves in. The first, gun pointed uselessly at the floor with the second's barrel buried in the back of his neck. The second, keeping the first secured to the ground, with the third's gun aimed directly at his temple. The third, gun keeping the second from trying anything, not knowing what in the world she was doing.

Wrath turn his eyes to the side, sizing up the girl. No, she certainly was no hooker. Her posture was well balanced and her grip was firm and unyielding. She knew how to use a gun. But, as he gathered from her eyes darting nervously between him and the bounty hunter, she didn't know who to use it on.

Now was his chance. If he gave her enough time to make up her mind, he could find himself missing a few pieces of brain. He himself didn't exactly know what was going on, and he'd like some answers. He wouldn't kill her, yet.

"Stop moving!"

Wrath was astonished. He had barely begun to tense the muscle in his arm and she had caught him already. Who ever she was, she certainly had some damn good training in her past. "What? You're going to kill me before you get to deliver that precious message of yours?"

Jet's half glaring eyes shot open suddenly. That voice? No. Not the voice. The voice wasn't the same. But something in the voice... the inappropriate humor behind the words. That's what was the same. _It can't be..._

Well, whether it was who he thought or not, it didn't matter at the moment. The two were talking - distracted. Act now or die later.

Jet bent his neck in a rather uncomfortable position, but a position clear of any bullets. He swung his body backwards and launched his legs into the air. A loud crack signified the direct hit his boot had with the man's jaw. Wrath's gun went off, but hit only floor. The woman's gun did the same, but only grazed Jet's mechanical arm. Lucky Jet.

Jet managed to roll to his feet as Wrath fell to the ground, landing flat on his back. He aimed his gun directly at the woman, not worrying about the man rolling around on the floor in front of him. "Drop it."

Her gun was already fixated on the unmoving form of Jet. She stood defiantly, grip never loosening. "I said _drop it_! I don't want to have to shoot you, but I will if -"

Jet's sentence was punctuated with a blast, followed by a pained grunt. Apparently that rolling man had been rolling straight towards his abandoned gun. Now Jet had a psychotic bounty, an unnamed, armed hooker, and a limp to deal with. His gun switched to his false hand as his natural one shot down to his leg in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. Where was Faye with her first aid kits when you needed her?

Wrath slowly rose to his feet, gun now pointed at the girl, but his eyes watching both her and Jet. He smirked at Jet, eyes traveling to the blood dripping down his leg. "Nice wound. Where'd you get that fake arm?"

Jet's eyes widened momentarily, before narrowing in anger. _Who the hell -?!_

There he decided it would be his time to escape. Sure, this Wrath person could easily put a bullet in the back of his head as he turned to flea, but it was better than bleeding to death just standing there. But, much to Jet's gleeful surprise, no bullets trailed after him as he turned, dragging his lifeless leg to the door with the rest of him.

Instead, Wrath remained exactly where he was, gun still pointed intently at the girl. She had dropped hers to her side, knowing if she tried to shift her aim over to him he wouldn't hesitate to give her a quick, red make-over. His eyes were still covered by those sunglasses, but she was sure one eye was staring along the top of that gun barrel, making sure it was aimed perfectly. She sighed, defeated, only waiting for him to decide what her fate would be.

Much to her surprise, he dropped his weapon, too. With no sign of tiredness from the struggle in his step, he walked back to where they had started. He turned the chair she had sat in before back over. He paid no head to her, quickly taking the good seat for himself. "Sit down."

Jet limped his way down that stairs with a sense of urgency. There was no one following him, but he still felt the need to get out of there as soon as possible. As he hit the lobby floor, he pulled out his communicator. "Ed! Bring around the Bebop, now!"

Ed's happy face quickly appeared on screen. "_Ed-o, go!_" Just as fast as she came, she was gone again, surely to control the Bebop from her trusty Tomato.

But she wouldn't get there fast enough. As Jet's body flew out of the front doors of the Hotel, 5 ends of 5 automatic rifles, held by 5 Syndicate members waited for him. He stopped dead in his tracks. As he did so, a large, black bird flew over Jet's head from it's spot on the awning above him. It could've been a crow, but maybe not. Jet didn't know shit about birds. 

Birds or not, one thing Jet knew all too well was trouble, and he could tell he was in some.

A tall, strong looking man was the bird's new perch. His black coverings only added to the darkness the man naturally held. As he walked forward, Jet could start to distinguish a few of the his features. Actually, only two - the man's unfriendly intent and his hair. Long, silver strands protected most of the man's face from the outside world. His broad shoulders implied the power the man possessed. The epitome of fear with silver accessories - sounded similar to the man Faye had ranted and raved about. The one who had taken her hostage to get to Spike. The one Spike would never talk about.

"Vicious?"

The man stopped a few feet away from Jet, but made no indication that he had heard him. His head rose, unveiling the most piercing eyes that could ever exist. He was staring right through Jet. A dissatisfied look marred the man's face. A low, dangerous voice emitted from him. "This isn't him."

With that said, the man was on his way. He turned, uninterested in Jet, and headed back the way he came. Jet might've breathed a sigh of relief, if he hadn't already noticed that this assumed leader was the only one leaving. The other five remained firmly in their positions, guns still pointed in a dangerous direction - Jet's.

Jet's eyes glanced around the malicious crowd. All were dressed almost identically. They were Syndicate men, alright. But, for the time being, so was he. "Now, wait just a second guys. You all hired me, remember? I'm bringing in your bounty for you."

Jet started backing up, waving his hands in front of his chest, wishing to wave off the encroaching danger. It didn't seem to be working. He went on rambling, not exactly sure of what he was saying, only aware of the fact that they were getting closer.

In desperation, he dove back, frantically pulling at the door as the serenade of gunfire began. After quickly closing the door behind him, the violent orchestra behind him shattered all glass on the door. Before they were done, the door was pretty much nonexistent. Before they could reload, Jet was darted around the corner, panting and clutching his leg. He didn't know how he had done it, but he managed to get there with only the bullet hole Wrath had given him.

"So, where were we?"

To woman simple stared at him, nervous beyond all belief. So much for her plan. After all that had taken place in the last few minutes, she couldn't ever remember what the plan had been. But now, she was back where she started - sitting across from him, him asking all the questions.

He scoffed a little. Silence? That was her answer? He refused to believe that she had come all this way just to forget what she was doing there. "Did we forget already? You were just about to tell me your little message, weren't you? Well... out with it."

She coughed, then cleared her throat. It had run dry with the mixture of fear and excitement the rumble had caused her. She had been trained well, but this was her first time with an actual mission. Soon, through an unwilling throat, she answered. "Shin.... he wants to meet with you. Tomorrow night."

"Bullshit."

She only cocked her head to the side, an innocent look of confusion on her face. Bullshit? Did she come all this way, put up with all she had, just to have him throw it back in her face. "Excuse me?"

"You're lying. You really aren't as smart as you look..."

It seemed as if he had more to say, but Wrath fell silent. His head turned around, looking out the window. A quiet, distant voice can be heard. A distant, pleading voice. A rambling voice, saying anything to get out of whatever situation its owner had gotten it into. Wrath stood, taking two long strides to look out of the window. With all the guns he saw, he doubt it was just a friendly meeting in the street.

Soon, his own gun was drawn, pointed once again at the blonde's face. "C'mon. We're going outside. Fresh air."

He hastily lead her to the elevator. The same one, from right in the middle of the lobby, that she had ridden up to his room. As the doors closed around them, Wrath discarded his used clip, quickly replacing it. After the secure click of his now cocked gun sounded, he broke the silence between them. "If you still have that gun of yours, you might want to get it ready."

She quizzically looked at him, as if to ask what he was talking about. She soon realized his meaning at the sounds of hundreds of bullets exploding into the air reached her ears. Silently, she obeyed, taking out her still unused gun.

The world quieted a little as the elevator reached its destination. Three confused gunmen stood in the middle of the empty hall, with two more standing guard at what was left of the front doors. "Where the hell did he go?"

The one in the center simply shrugged. There were three hallways the man they were after could've dove into. Unless he wanted to make his presence known, they'd have to split up. For safety's sake, the two at the door would have to remain there, just in case anyone else came. They did see him talking into a communicator of some type, probably calling for back up. That meant the three of them would have to split up, which wasn't good. 

If this guy was good enough to have the Syndicate heads offer him that much money, he had to be good enough to take them out one by one. So much for safety in numbers. And as the man's mind wandered to all these different factors, he was too distracted to hear the 'ding' of the arriving elevator.

With a ding and the soft sound of releasing pressure, the elevator doors slide open in front of Wrath and the woman. Three men stood directly in front of them, none seeming to notice them. Wrath wouldn't stand for that. 

He quickly sent off three bullets, alerting two of the men and killing the third. No vitals were hit, but three holes were enough to send him to the ground, bleeding to death. He quickly moved to the side, back within the cover the elevator provided. He pinned the woman against the side of their transportation. "Wait here."

With that, he was gone, darting out of the open doors and into the large corridor that housed the killers who were after Jet. He sent a knee to one's chest. As he man hunched over, Wrath quickly sent an elbow to the back of his head. The other took the opportunity to send the butt of his rifle to Wrath's ribs, cutting his breath off.

He fought through the shooting pain, sending a fist to the man's face. It connected well enough to get the man another foot away from him, but it wasn't quite strong enough to scare off the man approaching. One guard, leaving his 'post' at the door, charged straight for Wrath. In a heavy blow, the tall, mysterious man with fluffy brown hair found himself pinned against a wall, struggling to breath in the man's tight grip.

He could see a flash of shiny, flesh colored metal before he felt the oxygen reenter his lungs. Jet's fake arm sent quite a blow to the unsuspecting man. As his gun clattered to the floor as Jet's good arm wrapped around his neck, prying him off of Wrath. He quickly tossed the confused man to the floor as his hands grabbed the collar of Wrath's shirt, pulling him around the corner.

The two fled down the hall way with surprising speed before Wrath pulled Jet to a stop. "In here!" A powerful kick made quick work out of the door. The two dove into the empty hotel room, each taking to the walls on either side of the now open door for cover.

As Jet desperately tried to catch his breath, Wrath spoke, not seeming too winded. "Why are you helping me?'

Jet stood up straight again, done with his panting. "If you're dead, I don't get my bounty. You?"

A small smile came to Wrath's lips as he shook his head. "You bounty hunters never change. Me? If you're dead, I don't get to kill you."

Before Jet could question the rather odd bounty hunter comment, he noticed two approaching men. They looked a little angry, and their guns only added to the feeling. Before either man had a chance to fire, or react in any way for that matter, Jet had one by the jacket, pulling him violently into the room, while Wrath had one by the throat, pushing him back into the hallway.

Jet took his man to the ground, pinning him there as he sent a mechanical fist into the man's mouth. Even before the blood could show from the busted lip, the man's gun came up, pushing Jet away by the neck. Jet inhaled sharply, falling to his side.

Wrath has pinned his man against the door across the hall. Two repeating knees to the man's stomach sent him looking for the breath he had just lost, as a chop to the side of the neck would force him to look around the floor for his lost gun as well. Wrath paused briefly to listen in on the happenings of the room. It didn't sound too good.

An explosion of automatic bullets didn't sound too good to Jet, either. They sounded even worse headed straight for him. With an agility he didn't know he possessed, Jet dove over the room's bed, ducking on the other side at the bullets sent mattress stuffing into the air. Utilizing the slight pause in firing, Jet popped up, firing two wild bullets back at the man.

Neither hit, and the raucous of gunshots started again. Jet wondered why they didn't make bullet proof beds as he listened for another pause in the tirade. It came, but was filled immediately with footsteps. The man must've finally gotten the hint that he wasn't going to hit Jet that way.

Jet readied himself as the gunman rounded the bed, looking for a more suitable angle to kill at. As soon as he was within view, Jet fired, ready well before the assailant was. He thanked the gods that at least the ISSP had taught him how to aim. One bullet was all Jet needed - it tore straight through the man's right wrist. Not the most dangerous place to be shot, but it certainly meant you were dropping your weapon.

Wrath didn't realize just how dirty Syndicate men could fight. As his opponent dropped to the ground to find his gun, he also decided to send off a punch on his way down - a punch straight to Wrath's family pride.

With an awkward limp, Wrath backed into the room, diving backwards to avoid the flurry of lead flying his way. For the most part, he landed unscathed - one bullet hitting him in the shoulder, and another only grazing across his face, managing to shoot the sunglasses right off of his nose bridge. Close, but if he was still alive, it wasn't close enough.

He quickly tucked himself into a crouching position. As the man foolishly ran into the room after him, Wrath's leg swung out, easily whipping the man's feet out from under him. As he fell back, the man's trigger finger tightened, firing a few shots wildly into the air. Jet and Wrath remained unharmed, but Jet's dancing partner, still falling backwards from Jet's shot, caught a couple bullets in the neck. Poor guy never saw it coming.

Upon hearing the commotion going on, Vicious turned back around, heading back towards the hotel. Killing one idiot of a man shouldn't be taking so long. In all honesty, he could care less about the lives of the five buffoons he had chosen to take with him. If they failed, he'd simple send five more out to hunt down this bounty hunter and dispose of him. But the girl - her getting killed so early in the game simply would not work.

As he headed back, his precious pet bird flew off. It didn't like getting its feathers dirty with blood. Long strides swiftly took Vicious to the elevator. A long finger pressed to upwards pointed arrow, the doors immediately opening. Without stepping inside, a long arm reached in, grabbing the woman by the wrist.

"Come. You really shouldn't be hanging around this type of riff-raff."

Without waiting for any other mishaps, Wrath left the room, gun pointed in front of himself protectively. As he came back into the main corridor of the hall way, he kept running, but not without firing a few shots as he passed. As he ducked for cover in the opposite hallway, he heard a gun drop to the floor. At least he got one of them.

While he was still changing clips, he was in the hallway again, being greeted by the contents of the final guard's gun. He charged ahead, not seeming to be phased by the bullets looking to snuff out his livelihood. He ran ahead, staying always one step faster than the gunshots. By the time he reached the guard, his gun was reloaded and ready to fire.

And fire it did. Wrath directed his shot downward, hitting the man in the thigh. As he slumped down, gripping his injury, Wrath send a knee to the side of the man's head. Lying there, face up on the floor, finger's twitching, the man considered himself defeated.

Wrath did, too. He took a knee next to the man, his hand pulling the man's face up to his by the hair. "You work for Vicious. What does he want?"

The man, wincing from the pain, looked like a pathetic, defeated fool who should be begging for his life. The begging might've worked too, if he had even attempted it. "Fuck you, traitor!" 

Wrong answer.

Jet stood over the man, who was panting helplessly on the floor. His automatic rifle had been tossed across the room. Now the only gun visible was Jet's, pointed down at the man's head. A smile crossed Jet's lips momentarily before the loud blast tore through the air, leaving the man's face stained with his own blood.

As Jet's reverted his eyes away from the spray of blood, he caught sight of a pair of sunglasses on the floor. He bent to pick them up. They were a little banged up, but they looked pretty expensive. That wrath guy might want them back.

He pocket the sunglasses and headed out the door. At first, he tried to run, but was painfully reminded of the bullet lodged in his leg, courtesy of Wrath. He limped the rest of the way. 

As he came back in to the main part of the floor, he saw Wrath, staring thoughtfully out of the decimated entrance to the seemingly abandoned hotel. He stood over a corpse with a hole in it's head. Wrong answer indeed.

"Hey, man. You dropped your sunglasses."

When the man turned around, Jet could feel the bullet tearing through his heart, ripping all sense of reality from him. His world went crashing down around him. He was sure he was dead before he could even hear the gunshot. He looked down at his chest. There was no blood. He looked back up. No - he had not been shot by a gun. Two eyes, colors mismatched, had sent the bullet of shock through Jet's body.

"Spike!?"

A/N: So, did I get anyone? I didn't ruin the surprise with all my lengthy Author's Notes? I hope not. And, this really does seem incomplete without the song. I'll probably repost it when I think of one, or until I hire someone to think of them for me.

And no "To My Reviewers" tonight, folks. No reviews - I posted two chapters at once. A feeble attempt to make up for the time lost.


	9. Interlude: Homecoming

Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop.

A/N: Well, seeing how up to the last chapter is as far as I though, this should be interesting. I wonder where it'll go.

Oh yeah, I've always been a bit confused about the color of Spike's hair. Some TVs I watch it on, it's green. Other's, it's black. But, just because I like it better, whatever the real color is, in this story his hair is green.

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Interlude 1:

Homecoming

"Oooooooh, Jet-person brought home a Spike-person! Hai!!"

Spike walked past the hacker casually and sat in his usual spot on the couch, happy to see Jet hadn't picked up anyone to take his seat yet. "You should be ashamed, Jet. A little hair dye and a change of clothes had you thinking I was a bounty, but the munchkin noticed right away."

"Shut up." Jet continued on undeterred to the kitchen. He was hungry. Poking his head back out into the room, he replied, "You're not allowed to make jokes until my leg heals."

Ein ran up to Spike's legs with a happy bark before thoroughly sniffing down the man's ankle. Ed was right behind, on all fours. She sniffed the same spot before jumping up on the couch. Still using her nose the way Ein had taught her, she soon made her mischievous was to the back cushion of the couch, getting an up close view of Spike's hair.

"You smell like Spike-person, but you have icky hair!"

Without a word, Spike wrapped his hands around the small girl's shoulders. With wide eyes, Ed watched on as she was lifted and placed back upon the floor. Spike needed the room she was occupying to lay down.

But, before his eyes could close to get some rest, Ed popped into view, leaning over his face. She imitated a displeased bark as she poked at Spike's hair.

"Stop it, Ed." Spike's voice held no irritation. No matter how long he had been gone, he didn't forget Ed's annoyances. And they still didn't phase him. "I dyed it so I wouldn't look like me."

Ed froze in place, finger half-way back to Spike's head for another poke. In an over dramatic heap, she fell back to the floor, crossing her legs as she knit her eyebrows in confusion. "Spike-person doesn't want to look like Spike-person?"

Spike hesitated for a minute as he placed his hand behind his head, getting comfortable. "Not when people are after me."

Ed popped back to her feet. She hung her face in front of his, goggles drawn over here eyes, examining the upside down view of his face. He remained still and silent, eyes closed, either oblivious to the intrusion, or simply not caring. Ed slid off her goggles and grabbed a piece of her own hair, pulling it down in front of her face. "Ooooooh, does that mean Edward can have green, Spike-person hair now?"

"No. Hair dye kills brain cells, and you need everyone you can get." He smiled smugly to himself. God, he hated kids. But he loved calling them stupid to their face, and they're too stupid to get offended.

Ed just looked down in confusion, not quite grasping the idea of needing brain cells. Tomato had all the memory she'd ever need. Deciding not to waste her timing figuring out whatever gibberish Spike was speaking, she bent down to pick up Ein. She only held the dog for a second before dropping him onto Spike's chest. 

"Hai!! Ein missed you." She continued, making whatever voice she assumed Ein would have if he could speak. "He says, 'Don't be gone, long, wrong, next time.' Bebop have nooo money for food when Spike's gone."

"We had no money for food when I was here, either," he mumbled to himself.

Another comment that didn't seem to touch Ed too greatly. With her message delivered, Ed took off running, arms flailing in the air, yelling whatever rhymes came to her head. "Gone, long, wrong, prong, song!!" As she began skipping up the stairs, Ein quickly jumped off Spike, barking and chasing after the girl.

He had done just as requested. He took her home. Well, the closest thing she had to a home. Gren had come to learn that Faye had been spending her time on Mars sleeping in the cockpit of her Redtail. Not the most comfortable setting, and he should know - he did spend over 24 hours in his own cockpit, free falling to Titan. But still, a setting more inviting than a prison cell.

She had looked a little down the whole time. He wasn't sure why. Well, he did have a good idea why, but didn't want to say it. So, he kept his mouth shut and just walked with her. The ship wasn't that far from his apartment. They could've taken a taxi, but Gren preferred the walk. Faye didn't seem to mind either.

Despite the sullen look on her face, he enjoyed it. He had never gotten to walk with Julia. She only sat, either on that barstool - watching, listening - or on his couch, drinking with him. Though, Castillo wasn't exactly a good walking place, he reasoned. Too cold.

By the time he was done sifting through the irrelevant thoughts silence had forced him onto, they were there. Gren let go of his thoughts as he opened his eyes again to the present world. She silently climbed into the open cockpit of her waiting Redtail. In silence, she merely smiled. Too tired to say thanks, too cautious to say anything else.

But Gren had something on his mind that he felt the need to say. "Maybe you should really go home. Places with beds and showers are much more fitting of a fairy than cramped fighter jets."

With that, he turned and made his exit. He didn't have any more to say - he didn't know enough about those she traveled with to say anything else. He was positive she wouldn't say anything back. And if she did, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to hear it - it might be far too truthful. Talking to him did make her feel like she was in a confessional, after all.

__

Hmph. Maybe he's right. I should go back to the Bebop. In my rush to get out of there, I forgot to steal all their wulongs, anyway. Can't have that. A girl's got a reputation to keep.

She didn't know why, but the thought brightened her mood. The thought of heading back to the Bebop. She would never admit it.

Heading back to the Bebop - heading back to Faye Valentine/Poker Alice, the infamous gambler/bounty hunter. Heading away from Gren - away from the far too honest, beautiful fairy she didn't want to be, but couldn't help but slip into whenever he was around.

"What's there to eat around here?" Faye tossed her red jacket to the stairs banister as she walked into the main room of the Bebop, already smelling the aroma of cooking bell peppers coming from the kitchen. 

"Nothing for women who smoke all my cigarettes."

Faye stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes darted to the couch - the spot he always planted himself whenever he was around. And there he was - Spike. Sitting there, feet up on the table, hands behind his head, eyes closed - the epitome of nonchalance. And there she was - eyes wide, mouth agape, legs shaking - the polar opposite.

A/N: I know this is a really odd place to stop this, and it's really short, but the rest of it has a completely different attitude/feeling to it. Very different. Seems only right to spilt it up.

And, since this is a short little POS that doesn't even count as a chapter *points to title* - my little messages will go on the next part...


	10. Wherever I May Roam

Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop, it's characters, or "Wherever I May Roam" by Metallica. Please don't sue me, Lars.

A/N: Ok, bear with me here. This chapter jumps around a lot, time wise. Everything is still in chronological order, with the exception of maybe a few parts happening at the same time.

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Session 10:

Wherever I May Roam

__

But I'll take my time anywhere   
Free to speak my mind anywhere   
And I'll redefine anywhere   
Anywhere I roam   
Where I lay my head is home

__

"What the hell are you doing here!?!?"

"Hello to you, too, Faye."

"Don't you fucking 'Hello, Faye' me!!"

"Ok... don't you think maybe you should back up a little?"

"NO!! If I backed up, I'd be too far away to kill you!!!"

Inserted scuffling sounds, a few loud bangs, and cries of pain here. This was Jet's soundtrack as he stirred up his beef and peppers, sans beef, specialty. His prodigal children had returned. As he prepared their return meal, he began to wonder whatever made him take up adopting kids like them.

Ed, who had previously taken residence with her head buried in the fridge, looked towards Jet. "Oooooh.... Faye-Faye sounds mad."

Jet 'hmph'ed as he took that night's dinner off the burner. "You have no idea, Ed. But, unless you want one of them to bite your nose off or something, stay out of it."

Jet's left the peace of the kitchen and entered the dangerous battle field that had become the living room. He also left Ed on the floor, battling the confusion left with her. The hacker sent a curious, cross-eyed gaze to her nose. Would Spike-person or Faye-Faye really do that?

As they saw Jet enter the room, Spike and Faye whined, simultaneously, "Jet!"

He continued, undeterred, to his seat, simply shaking his head. "I have no opinion. But there is a new rule - if you talk, you don't eat."

"But-"

"No." He quickly shoveled out the peppers into each of his companions respective plates. He hoped that would shut them up - at least long enough to eat. And surprisingly, it did. Or maybe they cut off the arguing because he told them to. Could they both really have been gone so long that they had forgotten that they never listen to him?

In the meantime, Ed and Ein had made their way into the room. The hacker happily dumped the data dog's food into his bowl. She then hopped her way over to Jet, leaning over, attempting to whisper, but still speaking loud enough for everyone to hear her. "Is Faye mad about Spike-person's hair?"

Spike and Faye had both done as requested - shut up during 'dinner.' Now, with the food gone, hell was free to reign again. But, instead of the loud, raging, boiling pits of hell, the Bebop crew found themselves in the quiet portions of the netherlands - each sinner silently suffering with their problems.

That was, until Spike stood, not caring to remain within the uncomfortable silence any longer. "I need a shower," he mumbled to himself.

"Good. Maybe some of that stupid looking hair-dye will wash out."

"Shut up, Faye."

"Fuck you, Spike."

"Fuck _me_?" Spike whirled around, pointing an accusing finger at Faye. "I'm not the one who came in here all pissed off, attacking people for no reason. Fuck _you_, Faye."

"Well, _I'm_ not the one who disappeared for a year and then just waltzes back in, expecting a warm welcome.... No! You know what? Forget coming back. I'm not the one who took off in the first place - leaving behind the only people who would take you in!"

"_People_!? Don't forget I was here before you. _Jet_ took me in. Person. Singular."

His final comment struck Faye into silence. No matter how right she thought herself to be about everything else, Spike was correct in this instance, and even she had to admit it. Jet was the one only person who would take Spike in, and the one person who would take _her _in, too.

With a satisfied smile, Spike continued on his way, not noticing the ice being shot at his back from Faye's glare.

__

...And my ties are severed clean   
The less I have the more I gain   
Off the beaten path I reign 

Who the hell does he think he is?! Now I remember why I hated him so much. How could I have forgotten? To think, I almost _missed_ him. Not only that, but I tried to stop him from leaving! You really are turning into quite a fool, Faye Valentine. I can't even believe I protected some of his stuff from Ein's teeth!

And Jet's just as bad. I've busted my poor, delicate, feminine ass for almost a year to make up for Spike's leaving. I even stopped gambling to save the Bebop some money. Well, I stopped gambling _as much_. And what thanks do I get? 'I have no opinion.' I wonder if he knows how stupid he sounds when he says that?

And now that cocky bastard is back from the dead and using up all my hot water! No one's even told me why he's still alive, or how the hell he got back _here?!_ AHHH!

I should've stayed with Gren. So sweet - so understanding - so hospitable - so willing to listen - so... NOT SPIKE AND JET!

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...And the earth becomes my throne   
I adapt to the unknown   
Under wandering stars I've grown 

Bonsai plants were beautiful things. They were especially so to Jet - they were the only living things on his ship that didn't yell, sing annoying songs, or bark. The beauty in their silence is what he enjoyed. Gave him time to listen to his own thoughts every now and then. Unlike the other organisms he lived with - all they gave him was a headache. And as he thought it, a headache walked in the door.

"What's her problem, Jet?"

With a heavy sigh, Jet lowered his pruning sheers. His eyes remained fixated on his plants, as if in denial of the intrusion - but he wouldn't let foolish denial make him accidentally damage one of his quiet, oxygen giving pets. "I have -"

"- no opinion. I know. But seriously. What the hell have I done to deserve this? I lost count of how many times she flushed the fucking john while I was in the shower!"

As Spike situated himself comfortable against Jet's doorframe as the older man went back to his plants, seeing a specific small branch that he thought needless. They remained there in a comfortable silence. Jet was content with the shape a particular bonsai was taking - Spike content with just getting the load off his chest.

Then, with a randomness akin to Edward, Jet spoke. "You're back, Spike."

The man leaning casually, halfway in the room, thought silently for a moment. His search for a deep meaning came back without results. "That's awfully nice of you to notice, Jet, but what's that got to do with anything?"

Jet paused again - this time seemingly more for dramatic effect than anything else. "You were gone for a long time, Spike. For all we knew, you died a year ago. She's tried to get over it, and she's done a pretty good job of it. She was even starting to pick up your slack for a while. She even stopped wasting all of our money. But now you're back - and so is she."

In the middle of Jet's blurb, Spike lit a cigarette. After taking a long drag, the smoke seeped out of his lungs as he spoke. "Are you doing this to confuse me on purpose. I get that I'm back, but where the hell did she go?"

Jet's serene face remain focused on the greenery in front of him. "She's back to her old self. She's acting the way she did when you were here. She fought with you then, why not now?"

"You better not be trying to say that I'm the reason she's a bitch." Spike took another drag, longer than this first, and slowly blew out the smoke, watching it fill the air in front of him.

Jet turned to eye Spike, the serenity gone from his face. When he spoke, the bonsai induced zen was missing from his voice, as well. "No, but you'll be the reason _I'm_ a bitch if you keep blowing that damn smoke at my bonsais!"

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...And with dust in throat I crave   
Only knowledge will I save   
To the game you stay a slave 

Faye sat up abruptly from her bed. She couldn't sleep well as it was, and Spike turning the thermostat down so low wasn't helping matters. 

As she stood, she knew she was doing the wrong thing. Nonetheless, a white t-shirt slide over her head, covering and protecting her delicate skin from the cold. They were followed by jeans slipping over her legs. As she wrapped her favorite red jacket around her shoulders, she though it might be over kill. It wasn't _that _cold, but she knew it would add effect to her argument. An argument she knew she should be avoiding, but couldn't deny the urge. He got the last word before, but she wouldn't rest that night without taking a few more shots at him.

As an after thought, she grabbed a pack of cigarettes on her way to the weight room.

It was one of Spike's favorite places to be on the Bebop. If he wasn't listening to his oversized headphone's while taking up all the room on the couch, he was lifting in there. And, considering when she caught him shirtless lowering the air, his excuse was that he 'needed to keep cool - sweat wasn't his style', Faye assumed that's where he'd be tonight. 

But, as she entered the hall, there was no soft clang of barbells in the air. Instead, she heard a few soft murmurs in the distance. As she followed, she soon realized it was music. Following a bit further lead her to discover it was coming from the hangar.

As she entered, she recognized the jazzy notes playing from the Swordfish II's radio. Her mind briefly traveled back to Spike's bickering voice. In a argument about music of all things, Spike had attempted to school her on some of the "classics" - like Duke Ellington. She didn't know how he could listen to the stuff. It sounded so boring.

But, as she entered, she didn't see Spike. So much for busting in and making a scene. When she had finished making her way between the Red Tail and Swordfish, she saw him - and she lost the urge to fight. His moves seemed flawless as he practice his Tai Chi, or something like that - Faye didn't bother to learn any of those fancy fighting styles.

He looked so smooth, so graceful - so _not_ Spike. He looked almost like a normal person - someone who wasn't the biggest asshole in the world. That was, until he caught sight of her. A bit startled in mid stance, he fell promptly to his rear. He looked up at her angrily - that was the Spike she knew.

Before he could complain about her barging in on him, Faye jumped at her chance. "Why the hell is it so cold in here?"

He covered his anger with her as he pushed himself off the ground. His voice carried over his shoulder as he walked away, heading towards the wall of a window that protected them from the dead of space. "I don't hear Jet or Ed complaining."

Faye leaned back against the side of her Red Tail, lighting a cigarette. "That's only because their lips are frozen shut."

"Or maybe it's because you always complain about everything I do. Especially when I do things that have nothing to do with you."

"Or maybe it's because you always think nothing you do has anything to do with me. I don't give a shit about you learning how to dance or whatever the hell you're trying to do, but I think me shivering in my bed has something to do with me."

"Maybe she should start wearing clothes when you sleep." 

Spike's comment brought a flush of anger to Faye's cheeks, but it still managed to lighten the mood. For once, he didn't feel like fighting with her. He still loved to watch her get all pissy, but it was too late at night and his muscles were too sore to deal with a purple haired ball of fury just then. "Mind if I bum one?"

Faye, with the anger at the thought of Spike looking at her in her sleep somewhat abated, looked thoughtfully at the pack in her hand. Taking a drag, she tossed the whole thing at him. "Take them. Their yours anyway."

Spike's face contorted in confusion. The realization came as he caught the pack - his choice brand. "You mean you still haven't smoked these yet? I'm surprised they lasted a day, the chimney you are."

"I don't smoke half as much as you." Even Faye couldn't deny the irony - smoke pouring out of her mouth as she said those words while Spike still hesitated to light up. "Besides, they taste like shit. I figured I should save them for a particularly shitty day. You coming back certainly counts as one."

Lips, smiling mischievously, held an unlit cigarette tightly as a flame rose to light it. "You know you missed me."

"The only time I missed you was when I was shooting at you." _Shooting at you as you walked away from me, ignoring me - like you always do._ A playfulness held onto her words, but the corner of Faye's lips dropped ever so slightly as she fought a disheartened frown.

__

By myself but not alone   
I ask no one 

The two sat in silence for some time, each enjoying their own bit of tobacco. But, as Faye's cigarette began to run out, so did her patience. She might've lost her will to fight for the time being, but she still had to confront him. A question needed to be asked - one she knew that Jet would never bring up. The duty of it had been passed on to her, or so she deemed.

"Why'd you go, Spike? What was so important that you just had to leave me and Jet."

Spike shook his head as he turned away from the window to face her. "You're breaking the rules Faye. On the Bebop, no one asks personal questions - and if they do happen to slip out, no one answers. That's the way it's always worked."

"Well, maybe things change." Faye fiddled with her hands as her nerves began to act up on her. Why did she have to go and give him the whole pack for? "Maybe that's not how it works anymore."

In a rare fit of compassion, Spike carelessly threw a cigarette to her, noticing her nervous hands. "But it _is _still how it works. Do you know why Ed left, or why she came back? Ever bother to ask Jet why he loves those stupid little trees so much?"

A bit of a pause came between them, confirming Spike's suspicions. "I didn't think so. You're still breaking rules, Faye, not me."

Hoping to avoid the full scale battle he could feel building, Spike slipped back in to his loose fitting t-shirt and started to leave. He even managed to make it as far as the Swordfish - far enough to turn off the radio - before Faye struck. "You know, Julia isn't the only person if your life anymore. We're all here, too. Maybe you should think about us next time you decide to go get yourself killed."

Oh, the things he could say - the ways he could easily throw her comments back into her face. What of the times he had risked his own death for their sake - for _her_ sake. And what about him coming back instead of just staying in his new life? And then there was always the simple, ever angering fact that Faye knew nothing about him and Julia, so she had no idea what she was talking about!

But instead, he kept a calm, steady voice, and began walking again. He paused as he stood a short ways past her, looking over his shoulder.

"Be careful, Faye. My best friend crossed this line before - he ended up my most violently hated enemy. I'd hate to see what you'd end up being."

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Carved upon my stone   
My body lie, but still I roam 

A.N: I almost don't want to post this after reading Cassandra's latest chapter. I was half way through writing this when I read hers. Same basic idea, only she does it a fuck of a lot better than me. Everyone should head on over and check out "Ain't Afraid to Die" if you don't already read it religiously, like me.

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To My Reviewers:

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LANCE!!!: Ok, I know you don't review through FF.Net, but live action feedback is better than anything else. And you kick ass. Have I ever mentioned this. Anyone else reading this, this here lil lady (and her sister's boyfriend) picked this song. All 'tallica fans, thank her. Rock on.

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Kyra: Yeah, guys are nice to each other, but those Syndicate bastards are, well... bastards! I know the surprise didn't work so well. Not too many people seemed pleased with it. Suppose I should just stick to being blatantly obvious (blatantly obvious?? doesn't that mean obviously obvious?? God I'm bad with grammar). Anyway, thanks once again for that awfully nice review of yours. Glad you liked the scene where Jet seems Vicious. I tried to make it stand out, simply for the purpose of emphasizing that Jet _didn't_ already know him. A lot of stories I've read just kinda make everyone know Vicious, for some reason.

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Eisha: Yay! You're new! I like new people. Anyway, thanks for the awesome review. I'm glad you found it too. Even gladder (me speaks goodz inglilsh) that you liked it. Yeah, I know the idea's overused. But I sacrificed creativity for something easy to write. Ahh, the sign of a true sell out.

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Bluefuzzyelf: You're new too! That make two. Yes, I do know I'm evil. In fact, I take pride in my evil, underhanded ways of life. Thank you.

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Rashaka: You bring up a very good point. A point I'm surprised no one else brought up - I certainly would've. Yes, it's a very unlikely scenario. Jet should've recognized him right away. You are absolutely correct. But, in defense of myself, I shall make up a reason. Different color hair, new clothes (which does make a difference, for someone who wore the same thing the whole time Jet knew him), sunglasses, different voice, plus he hasn't seen him in about year. That, mixed in with Jet never really took a good look at the guy. For the most part, he just looked at him out of the corner of his eye. So, there's my excuse. Now for the truth - I had originally wrote it with Jet noticing all these things and pretty much figuring it our pretty quickly, but staying in denial. But if I would've done that, all the readers would've know write away too. A foolish, and pathetic attempt at creating a twist. Can't blame a guy for trying, right?

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SweetPsyche: And number three on the new reviewers list. Yay again! Glad you liked it so far. I'll be trying to return to that style again in later chapters, but I'm taking a break. Hard to develop a plot with all that inner monolog going on. But I love writing like that, and can't wait to again. And about the episodes, yeah, I'm dumb. Someone told me it was between 11 and 12 (or which ever episode is right before Jupiter Jazz), and I blindly believed them. A few other people have reviewed mentioning that, but you have by far been the kindest. Thanks for not chewing me out about it. :)


	11. When the Bebop Comes Crashing

Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop or "When Forever Comes Crashing" by Converge

A/N: Don't you just hate writing the beginning to a story, then writing the end, and leaving yourself stuck without a clue as to what should happen in the middle?

Oh, and the last chapter was mistakenly titled as Session 10, but this is the real deal.

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Session 10:

When the Bebop Comes Crashing

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For the swarms come and reap your day dreams of love and hope  
For the fears and blood stained faith are woven in her yearn for war

I don't know what the hell that idiot Spike did, but he certainly dragged us into it with him. In the 5 days we spent in the general vicinity of Mars, his stupid ass brought 4 groups of syndicate assholes looking for us. Finally Jet thought the Bebop had had enough. Now I don't know where the hell we're going. Neither does Jet. And who gives a rat's ass what Spike thinks?

Ed suggested Earth. She never really said why. My guess is she must be homesick again, looking for her dad or something. But, then again, if she wanted to be around her dad so much, why'd she come back? Who knows? And lord knows no one will ask. Against that bullshit rule Spike always babbles about any time anyone asks him anything. Or anytime I ask him anything. Not like anyone else on this fucking ship would ask.

Spike wants to stay and fight. For once, me and Jet are on the same page. To hell with that idea, you bonehead. He shouldn't confuse the rest of us with him – we don't want to die.

So, for now, the once infamous Bebop crew – feared by bounties across the galaxy – has been reduced to nothing more than drifters hiding behind space debris like cowards. All thanks to Spike. Fuck you, Spike.

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And the sadder song of broken wings  
heard through the battered pavement among this city  
Deafening, it betrays me in the sweetest and of the greatest of dreams

As she entered the room, drying her hair, still wet from the shower she had just taken, Faye found a casual looking Spike. Too casual, if you asked her. His fluffy green hair – it was back to its normal color, now – seemed particularly ugly and annoying today. He looked rather peaceful, eyes closed, slow breaths. He might've been sleeping, dreaming some sweet dream to keep his mind at ease during his rest. 

As she prepared her best 'I-Hate-You-Spike' voice, Faye hoped she was about to ruin such a dream. "What the hell are you looking so content about?"

Spike remained on his back, lying comfortably on the couch, hands behind his head serving as a pseudo-pillow. With a smile, he spoke. "Ed actually had a good idea."

And, perfectly on cue, Ed waltzed in, tomato in its usual spot atop the young hacker's head. With eyes closed, she managed to maneuver her way around the table, Ein following her the whole way. "Not Edward's idea! Ein's!!" She said so without a pause in her step, and then just continued on her merry way. Up the stairs, then off to whatever it is she does all day.

Faye's hand, which had previously been rubbing her wet hair in a vigorous attempt to dry it, paused. "I think Ed's finally lost it."

With a 'hmph', Spike sat up. "I think that kid lost it long before we met her."

I suppose logically it's a good plan. Spike seems to enjoy it, but I've learned long ago not to trust his judgment in situations involving life and death. That kid has a bad habit of leaning more towards the 'death' side of things. 

Faye hasn't let her two cents be known yet. Which means no one's told her yet – she's not the type to keep quiet on matters of… well, on any matters.

It's just too easy. And the fact that Ed claims Ein thought it up doesn't instill much confidence. It must be complete shit if even Ed won't fess up to thinking of it.

But for now, it's the best we've got. With all this flying around and playing hide and seek with those Red Dragon's, the Bebop's running on empty. With the lack of bounties successfully heading our way, we don't have the cash to refuel, and we don't have enough fuel to make it to any place other than Mars.

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These moments can't avoid you

Your tired faith cannot erase  
Tonight the lonesome sky opens wide

In a place like Mars, there aren't many uninhabited places a large, well-recognized ship like the Bebop can land unnoticed. And with a group like the Red Dragon Syndicate after you, you better make sure no one notices you. So leave it to Jet to find the one place they can go. 

Faye watched warily over Jet's shoulder as he maneuvered the ship. She glanced out the window and pulled a face. "Where the hell are you taking us, Jet?"

Jet kept well-trained eyes on their target. The water seemed a bit on the rough side – he couldn't afford to give Faye the satisfaction of eye contact. "To Mars. A bit behind on Bebop news, Faye?"

Faye soon regretted the smack to the back of Jet's chair she shot off in retaliation, as it caused a good deal of "rough sailing" for the Bebop. This time, Jet did tear his attention away from what he was doing, though the eye contact he did make with Faye was far from favorable. 

Determined to cover up her folly, Faye pressed on. "I know we're going to Mars, Jet. But what part of Mars is that?" As she questioned, a long, feminine finger, complete with freshly painted nails, pointed out and at the churning pit of water they were headed for.

Jet shrugged off the question. "Damned if I know. But no one else is there, and that's all that matters right now."

Spike was roused from his slumber by Jet's rather graceless landing in the seas surrounding Mars. As he stumbled through the hallways of the rocking ship, he wondered how good they'd all be about not being found. He was fairly sure the sounds of Faye's forceful, and not always dry, heaves could be heard for miles.

He figured someone like Faye - someone who has been flying through space pretty much constantly for the past few years - would be able to hold their lunch on a few waves.

"Spike, just where do you think you're going?"

He didn't have to turn around to know that the voice was Jet's. He could perfectly picture the man - stern look in his eyes, leaning against a wall with his arms folded. Probably had his apron on, too. That's how Jet always stood when he was about to tell Spike that he wouldn't go after him. Spike had lost count as to how many times he's heard something like that from Jet.

He slowly raised his hand to open the door to the hangar. "I know, Jet. If I go, you're not coming after me, right?"

Jet's eyes closed as he raised his chin indignantly. "That's right. And when you come back, I won't waste _our_ hard earned money on fixing _your_ ship."

"Then, I guess I'll keep all the bounty money to myself then." A smug smile spread across Spike's lips. He knew he'd won. A haphazardly thrown hand took to the air, a strange form of a wave. "Later, Jet."

"Bounty?!" Jet's mouth was nearly salivating at the thought. Bounties meant money. Money meant getting the hell off of Mars. "Whoa, Spike! What bounty?"

This time, Spike did turn to face Jet. One side of his lips curled up into a chiding smile. "Anyone who's lived on Mars knows there's always a bounty or two floating around. But you and the rest of the Bebop stay here - _I_ wouldn't want to cramp _your_ style."

I suppose I wasn't really lying when I told Jet about the bounties. There are plenty of bounties on Mars to catch. But that's not what I'm looking for.

What am I looking for? Well, I'm not really sure. But those Syndicate lackies coming after us just proves to me that I need to be looking for something. The Syndicate's changed since the elder's got plugged - they wouldn't give a rat's ass anymore if someone who knew things about them was alive or not. They're not just after me to shut me up. Then what the fuck do they want?

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Forgive me, 

2 a.m. my city lights burn bright as day.  
Catching the flattering silhouettes of the tired and the damned

Spike himself wasn't exactly sure when the Swordfish landed, or when he got out of it. He didn't know where he was going, either. He just knew that he was there again. _That_ part of town. 

The little section of Mars where his life was ruined. He couldn't even remember when. Three, maybe four years ago? Maybe even longer. Life on the Bebop, and then life on the run, had been lumped together in Spike's mind. There was no amount of time allotted to it. It was just "after." After he and Julia supposed died. After his falling out with the Syndicate... with Vicious. After everything went wrong.

His eyes glanced from building to building, recalling every haunted memory they held for him. The bright lights of the city streets made it easy to make out every feature of the buildings.

The bar where he first met Julia. The park bench he was sitting on when Vicious first told him who Julia was. The little shop that housed Julia when she was hiding from Vicious and the rest of the Syndicate.

A sad smile appeared on Spike's face. That was the same place that Julia had taken him to in order to recover. He could still remember every moment he spent on that bed, completely wrapped in bandages. She would hum to him while he rested. Well, she was probably just humming to herself to pass the time, but Spike always thought that, in some way, it was for him.

The smile faded into nothingness. That was the same place in which Julia had told him, after he had recovered, to leave. He remembered opening his lips at that moment. He wasn't sure what he was going to say. He knew he would leave, but he wanted her to come with him. He was sure she would.

What was once a smile turned into a hardened scowl. That was where Julia had told him she wouldn't go with him.

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I am tapped clean of respect

And I'm walking waist deep in ruin.  
If this is need then I never wanted you.

Spike's boots hit the pavement hard, not stopping to apologize to the hobo he had splashed. _He should pick a better place to sit._

There was a soft crackling under each of Spike steps. A mixture of dead leaves and small pebbles being crushed under their weight - the weight of Spike and the devil on his back. The sound caused Spike's eyes to wander. 

So many dead leaves covered the paths. The benches carried a good amount of rust. Mildew covered the tombstones. He wondered if anyone had even been in here since that night. He could probably find his old blood stains if he looked hard enough.

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This is a monument to our everything 

Before our forever comes crashing.

He looked up at the cracked face of an angel. The statue stood as the center of the cemetery. He wondered what the angel's name was. He never did know much about the folklore of dead religions, but he assumed the important ones had names. This one certainly seemed important enough.

"Spike."

It must've been important. This is where she wanted to meet him. And she always knew about those kind of things. He should've asked her what the angel's name was.

"Spike!"

But he never got the chance to ask her. In fact, he never even got the chance to see the angel. Vicious ruined that opportunity. If he recalled correctly, he was still about ten feet away from their little meeting place when the gunfire started.

"Spike!"

He turned, a thoughtful look on his face, to head out of the cemetery, only to find Shin standing in the same spot he was 4 years ago.

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I loved you.

A/N: Yeah, so that took forever. Sorry guys. Lots of things were taking up a lot of my time, but I'm back in school now, so hopefully that won't be happening as much. And I have a fairly decent idea as to what should be happening in the next two or three chapter, so they shouldn't take as long.

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To My Reviewers:

Rashaka: Yeah, I know, you compliment me on updating, and then I go a good two months without one. Don't you just love the irony? Well, I'm glad you're enjoying this (and hope you'll still read after the long absence).

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The Great Thing: Well, about Faye. Yes, she is in the same boat as Vincent, Vicious and Gren. But the thing is, that part is told from Gren's POV, and Gren doesn't know that about Faye, so to him, it's still just him, Vincent and Vicious.

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Kyra1:First off, did you get screwed over with the whole no double names thing? I Couldn't help but notice the 1 at the end of your name now. That happened to me over at FictionPress.Net. It sucks, so if that's the case, I'm still calling you Kyra. Fuck you, other Kyra. Anyway, I'm still worried about Cassandra's chapters because she's awesome. But, this isn't a writing competition, so I suppose I don't care all that much. Although (unless she updated recently), I beat her on updating. And, since I'm just one poor little college boy, a poor little college girl liking it does help. I like writing those inner monologues the best, so I'm glad to see someone likes them. I'd do the whole story like that, but the plot would almost never progress that way.

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ESP: Thanks. I'm glad you liked it. It took me a whole to come up with that summary. Too bad that part of the story that makes the summary make sense is still a good few chapters away, it's just kinda pointless for now.

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Aniiston: First off, I have no idea what your name means, but it's cool as hell. Next, don't let little old me discourage you. Keep on writing. I'm sure you're writing is great, too (though I haven't had a chance to read any of it). Thanks for the very kind words. And if you liked the tenth chapter the best, then stick around. I had a lot of fun writing that one, so I think I'll be shifting a lot of the upcoming stuff to fit that same mood.

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www.shut-up.com: That's a great name. Anyway, thank you, and I'm glad you're enjoying the fic. I'm even more glad (gladder?? gladilyful? over run with gladdness? what the hell was I talking about...?) that it got you to see the movie. It's an awesome film. Number 1 in my collection. And, as cliche as it may be, some of us writers (like me) need to be told to update soon, or we forget.

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Linda: You know, I'm really glad that, not only did you like that bit with Ed, but thought it believable. I really wasn't sure whether or not many people would believe that. In fact, I still doubt a lot of people did (seeing how you're the first to comment on it). But, if one person goes for it, I'm happy.

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Linda (version 2.0 - I figure if you review twice, you deserve two little personalized comments for your troubles): I tried really hard to get that across. In life, I always believed in playing the devil's advocate. Everyone's point of view has some values to it, and it should be heard. That, combined with the fact that personally I'm still not sure who I agree with, made be write that the way I did. And it's always wonderful to know that someone had a reaction to what I wrote. Don't worry about the whole following thing. I'd rather have a few people giving me solid reviews than a lot of people giving me crap. And yours are definitely solid reviews. On a side note.. weeiiird. My religious Bebop fics are the same. Well, cept this one. That would just be conceited.

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anime queen3: Uhh, thanks.

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Raven: Don't cry. The old goat's not dead. I'm just a lazy writer. I do plan on finishing, so don't worry about that. I just don't know how soon that'll be. I hope this chapter isn't too much "candy" for you. Wouldn't want to ruin your teeth. And, thank you. Your review jump started me into finishing this chapter.


	12. Buried Alive

A/N: So, I'm not dead. And, although I'm sure many of you assumed so, neither is this story. Hopefully I'll get a few of my old readers back. If not, oh well. And, keep an eye out for edits. Before the next chapter is posted, I'll probably edit all the previous ones. It's not necessary to read them all, but there are a few important changes. I'll let you all know the major ones, to save you some time

Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop, or "Buried Alive" by Billy Idol.

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Session 11:

Buried Alive

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It's the season of the dark horse  
The ocean of night  
It's the angel of mercy  
Leaving you behind  
In this moment  
You ache for the cure  
You're pleading  
Save me  
Give me some more

As he looked on, the recognition slowly came to him. Spiky hair, matted to his forehead under the weight of the rain. It was Shin alright. Spike breathed a short sigh of relief as his hand inched away from the holster under his coat. He really wasn't in the mood to fight.

"What is it?" In a moment, Spike, the love-lost wreck, quickly turned back into Spike Spiegel, the ex-bounty hunter turned syndicate hunter. The Spike that Shin knew.

Breathing a sigh of relief of his own, Shin shot a cautious glance around the area as he approached the man. He spoke in a low voice, obviously paranoid about eavesdroppers. "We need to talk. But not here - some place more entertaining."

Entertaining. Code for secure - Red Dragon-free. From the cemetery, it was only a short walk - maybe five minutes - to Cheaters. It was a pretty upscale strip club run by a burly guy named Zan, or as his birth certificate says, Alexander Wanye. A burly guy with big enough balls and enough money to keep the syndicate out of his place.

Lots of things didn't happen on that day a year ago that should have. The Syndicate didn't fall. Honestly, I didn't really care if it did or not - that wasn't why I did what I did. I just expected it to anyway. For as long as I knew them, the Red Dragons were never without a leader. The Van ran the game while I was there. Officially, they still did after I left, too, but Mao was really the one calling the shots. After Vicious.... fixed that, the Van took over again. Albeit, only for a few months, until the coup. I don't really know how they survived after Vicious fell.

I say fell, not died. That's another thing that didn't happen that should have. That's the one that pisses me off. The first guy on the scene made sure to quickly start patching up his injuries - slowing the blood loss. Fortunately, the second man on the scene was Shin. He made sure to let a bullet stop the first man's efforts.

Shin's another mistake - a good one though. Since everyone left alive still thought he was a lowly Red Dragon, the rest of them simply thought of him as a survivor. With some quick patchwork, Shin was on his feet again only a few minutes after I made my way out. That kid's a lot quicker on his feet than you'd think - with his gun and with his tongue. I'm not exactly sure what the hell he told them all about Vicious, but it must not have sounded too good. The Red Dragons themselves, after sewing the lucky bastard up well enough to make it through the rest of the night, turned Vicious in to the ISSP. That Shin's got an awfully slick tongue. One of these days, I need to remember to ask him what his story was.

__

There's no shelter tonight  
Escape from the pain  
There is nothing  
No end to this game  


Shin's anxiety was clear as day. Spike couldn't help but notice the sweat gathering on his companion's brow, and consequently ordered a round of shots. Nothing loosens the tongue like some bourbon. 

"You boys are looking a little troubled." Both Spike and Shin were far too preoccupied with their own minds to notice who had served them their drinks. Alexander Wayne, the tall, well-built owner of Cheaters liked to take care of the bar himself on select nights. It wasn't like he needed the tips or anything - that man could probably pay off Faye's hospital bills with the cash in his pocket. 

Spike, Shin and Zan had come to a strange sort of bond over the past year. Spike and Shin both grew up in the Syndicate - they were ingrained with the same form of unspoken communication. Zan just picked up things quickly.

So, catching on to what Mr. Wayne was getting at, Shin snapped back into the calm, collected, smart Syndicate man he was supposed to be. "Not really. But, we are feeling a bit crowded."

"We do have a few private rooms," responded Zan, a smile creeping to his lips. "For a price, that is."

Now it was Spikes turn to snap back to his normal persona - the asshole. "Shut up, jackass. You over-charge enough already just for drinks." Despite his serious voice, Spike let the humor show through a slightly curled lip.

__

You're so wicked  
Evil and cruel  
It won't save you  
Save me  
From what I'm gonna do  


Blood ran down the side of his face, gathering, and thus dripping from his chin. Quite a frightening image, once it's combined with the man's completely stoic expression. Such serenity, displayed with pristine, pale skin, marred by a long stream of crimson. The silence that hung in the air was finally broken as his latest victim gave up his battle for life - letting his automatic rifle fall unceremoniously to the ground.

A crowd of five, all heavily armed, stared on in a mixture of awe and horror. Though they would've proved to be overkill against any other intruder, the five seriously began doubting their chances of survival. That is, until the man - staring at the five barrels trained on his figure - spoke with a deathly low voice. "All those who lower their weapons will be considered allies."

Five guns fell quickly to the ground.

__

You're just a number  
You're just a victim  
A dead man walking  
Buried alive

Three sat around an Oak table - well oiled, with ornate carvings up its four legs. They sat on a round, plush, velvet sofa, encircling the round table. The single, round wall was covered in a fabric to match the furniture - though whether it was for the sake of luxury, or to help be sure that the sounds that went on in said room remained there, was still to be determined. "Spill it, Shin."

The man's eyes slowly rose from their previous position - downcast, examining his glass - to make eye contact with Spike. Though the privacy of the room had eased Shin's mind somewhat, he still feared one person hearing what he had to say - the man he was looking at. No telling what Spike's reaction would be.

__

Oh, cut it out, Shin! Just bite the bullet, his mind urged. His mouth complied.

"Vicious is out. The ISSP has deemed him 'reformed.'"

"Stupid fucking..." Zan's voice trailed off, mumbling the rest of his obscenities under his breath. It was well known that the club owner was not a fan of the police force in the area - but who in their right mind would be?

Shin paid no mind to the other man's words - his eyes remained solely focused on the ex-bounty hunter. He expected an outburst - or at least what Shin had come to learn of Spike's 'outbursts.' From what he had heard of the man, he wasn't exactly the most emotional guy in the universe. This stoic, aloof personality had only grown more extreme in the passing year. So Shin searched for a tell tale eye twitch, muscle tightening, glare, hard swallow - _anything_! 

Instead, Shin got a verbal response that nearly knocked him out of his seat. "I know."

"God damnit! Where's Spike?" 

Jet stomped his way down the hall, Spike's communicator clutched tightly in his hand. The bounty hunter, during his previous stay on the Bebop, had never left without it, save for during his encounters with Vicious. Jet had assumed that if that was here, Spike would be too. 

Spike hadn't been in his room when Jet went to get him. He wasn't in the exercise room either. Heavy steps brought him into the main room of the Bebop. No Spike. In all honesty, he didn't expect to find the bounty hunter there. After all, that was where Jet had started from. "Damnit!"

Ed stared, mouth agape, at Jet for a moment before speaking. "Spike-person not going after Edward's bounty?"

"No, Ed!" Jet's hand took to the air, a very violent sign of exasperation. "And he's not stayin' on this ship anymore if he doesn't get his ass back here soon!"

Faye opened one eye and glanced tiredly at Jet from her position on the couch. "Told you he was a bad seed."

Jet quickly turned his angry eyes to Faye. "And you! You slept all day, you bet your ass you're not sleeping all night, too! Go after that damn bounty!"

"Me?" Faye shot up into a sitting position, her fatigue forgotten in her outrage. She spoke with anger, but her face was pleading. She needed to sleep! "But that's Spike's job! You of all people should know we have a system, here! Ed finds the bounties. Spike gets the bounties. You fix everything. I save Spike's ass."

"And steal all our money."

"That's beside the point!"

Jet folded his arms and began to walk away, back to the serenity of his bonsai trees. "Just do it, Faye," he called over his shoulder as he walked.

__

Hold out for a better hand  
Wait for better days  
You can feel it coming  


"Come again!?"

"I said I know." Spike greeted the shocked voice and equally shocked faces with a flat, mater-of-fact response. "He already paid me a visit."

"Spike, what the hell are you talking about?" Shin's eyes traveled through a range of emotions - shock, anger, fear, confusion, disbelief. Spike merely stayed calm.

"A few days back - he sent some hooker up to distract me while him and some lackeys he managed to muster up ambushed me. Didn't do so well - must've gotten rusty in the big house." A smug smirk graced Spike's face, finally showing a bit of interest in the topic he was speaking of.

"But, Spike." Shin had since stood up, his face finally deciding on confusion. He placed a hand on Spike's shoulder - hopefully it would hold the man down, as he was sure Spike would give an extraordinary reaction to this bit of news. "Vicious was only released a few hours ago."

__

The fury of my rage  
My vengeance  
Will rain down on you  
There's no mercy  
Have mercy  
In what I'm gonna do  



End file.
